Taiga
by magistrate
Summary: Fujin searches for elements of a lost past, and she may find more than she expects.
1. Beginnings

Dust caked his hair and face, and at times he forgot what color they each were. The old phantom pains were resurfacing, pinpricks and aches all down his side and arms and legs. His lips were parched, cracked and bleeding; a tongue as dry as the wasteland around him ran over them briefly, then subsided.  
  
**_Taiga._**  
  
His step faltered, and he clenched a gloved fist. He wasn't going to listen this time. He wasn't. They couldn't control him any more, and he repeated it like a litany inside his head, trying to drown out the sound of the infernal directive. _Not any more. Not any more. Not any more._  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Unthreatened. Directive: None. Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel. Energy: Depleted. Directive: Feed. Location: Upper Kashkabald Wasteland. Directive: Return to outpost at Etam._**  
  
_Not any more. Not any more._  
  
Dust plumed up from where he set down his foot, heading west and south. A dry, hiss-click pattern froze him in his tracks, and he turned to see a Grand Mantis rising from its position in some halfway concealed lair. It advanced toward him, spikes and mandibles at the ready.  
  
Taiga staggered sideways, regarding it with extreme distrust. _So I'm going to die here?_ he wondered, feeling the stitch in his side increase as he tried to hurry away. The Mantis followed with a series of shambling sidesteps, faceted eyes reflecting a thousand distorted images of himself.  
  
"I'm not fit for a meal," he rasped, waving an arm at the monster. It took a step forward, as if debating whether to charge. Taiga coughed raggedly, drawing a hand across his mouth. Blood spotted the back of his glove for a moment before running off the liquidproof surface. The rest of the uniform gleamed brightly in the heat.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Attack._**_  
  
Not any more.  
  
**Status: Incomplete. Directive: Disregard.**_****  
  
_Not any more...._  
  
Synthesized hormones began to flow into his brain, released by some small valve in the collar of his uniform. Red began to cloud his gaze, and he tried to look away as his vision zoomed in to skip over each weak spot on the Mantis in detail. It fixed on one location, just behind the slashing mandibles, at the base of what could have been called the monster's neck--that is, if it had any part that _could_ be identified as a neck. He sidestepped, waiting for the Mantis to charge.  
  
It charged.  
  
Sidestepping again, the hydraulics in his leg fired, delivering a crushing snapkick far beyond the powers of any normal human. His boot went clear through the exoskeleton and into the soft tissue beyond, and the Manits fell and twitched.  
  
Another valve released in his collar, and the red haze vanished. Taiga stepped back, trying to put some distance between himself and the carcass. In his condition, he knew what directive would be next.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Energy: Depleted. Directive: Feed._**  
  
Stepping forward, he ripped a section of exoskeleton away to expose the white muscle. One hand closed around one of the larger muscles that led to the legs, locking in place as he ripped the muscle out.  
  
_Not any more._  
  
He tore into it, feeling the warm juice run down his face and paint moisture into the dust that already adorned it. With a shuddering cry, he threw the meat away, spitting out what he had already bitten. Standing, he shook his head and unclenched his hand.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Energy: Depleted. Directive: Feed._**  
  
"Not any more," he protested, looking with disgust at the Mantis he had killed. Turning his back on it, he took the first few shaky steps away. "I'm a human. Human."  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Unthreated. Directive: None. Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel. Energy: Depleted. Directive: Feed. Location: Upper Kashkabald Wasteland. Directive: Return to outpost at Etam._**_  
  
Not any more.  
  
Not any more.  
  
Not any more.......  
_  


**--- - - - ---  
T A I G A  
--- - - - ---****  
**

  
Squall woke up staring at the ceiling, and wondering if by staring long enough he could convince himself that the Sorceress War had never happened. The rising four-bell chime of the PA system interrupted his thoughts before they could develop beyond that point, and soon Cid's identifiable voice spilled from the speaker in the high corner of the room.  
  
_"Will Commander Squall Leonhart please report to the bridge immediately? Repeat, Squall, please come to the bridge immediately."_  
  
Squall rolled out of bed, smoothing the covers hastily. Changing into the first thing readily available--his formal SeeD uniform--he dragged a hand through his hair.  
  
_What's this about?_  
  
The hallways were deserted at this time in the morning, most of the students at class or eating breakfast. He didn't meet anyone on the trip to the elevator or up to the third floor; even the usual staff seemed to be absent from the bridge. Squall glanced around, noting the dearth of personnel quietly.  
  
"Squall," Cid called, descending on the lift from the control platform. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he was smiling slightly. Glancing over Squall's attire, he chuckled and waved off a salute. "Quite the consummate SeeD, aren't you?"  
  
Squall wasn't exactly sure how to answer that, so he merely said "Sir?"  
  
"You've done an exemplary job," Cid said, and for a moment Squall was afraid that Cid was going to promote him to Headmaster or something. "Ultimecia is no longer a threat; nor, it seems, is Galbadia. And I have my wife back. It seems we owe a lot of thanks to you."  
  
Squall frowned, and Cid raised a hand to prevent him from saying whatever it was he was about to say.  
  
"I know this is rather unusual, seeing as the terms of the Timber Owls' contract are still in effect--"  
  
"Forest Owls," Squall couldn't help but correct.  
  
"Ah. Quite right. I know this is rather unusual, seeing as the terms of the _Forest _Owls' contract are still in effect, but I have another assignment for you."  
  
Squall quickly masked a slight sense of disappointment. _Already...?_  
  
"I need you to find Seifer," Cid asked, and Squall blinked. "He's still technically enrolled in Garden, despite all actions he's taken in the past few weeks. And because of those very actions, many of the world governments are searching for him. If he's caught, it's almost certain that he'll be imprisoned or worse. Which is why it is _imperative _that we find him before they do."  
  
Squall digested that for a moment. _Seifer... I wonder how he'll take this?_  
  
"Your orders are to find him and return him to Garden with all expediency," Cid said. "My sources place him in Balamb recently. Take whoever you think will be necessary."  
  
_To bring back Seifer? ...not Zell,_was his first thought. Then something else nagged at the edge of his mind. "...sir? What about Fujin and Raijin?"  
  
Cid seemed startled, as if he hadn't thought of that. "Oh? I assume they'll return if he does," he said. "Do you think that they're still together?"  
  
Squall thought about that. _They left before the Adel incident,_ he recalled, _but I somehow doubt that they'd just abandon him._ "It's possible, sir," he responded tersely.  
  
"Hmm," Cid acknowledged. "Well, I'll leave it up to your good judgment."  
  
_I hate it when people do that._ "Yes, sir."  
  
With a final salute, he turned to leave and was almost surprised when Cid didn't call him back to add one more comment to the pile. Stepping into the elevator, he began to organize the lists of potential teammates before he had even hit the **1F** button.


	2. News

_"Reports indicate that the coup was completed when over sixty percent of the Galbadian army simply put down their weapons and refused to support the power structure which the Sorceress had put into play. Within six hours of the first dissent, Seifer Almasy had disappeared and a new leader had emerged from within the Army. This man, Julian Sietz, has promised reparitive negotiations to the leaders of other nations, including Dollet, Esthar, and--what is most astonishing--Timber."_  
  
The audio spilling out of the terminal fuzzed, and a hand reached out to switch it off. The hand hesitated, then withdrew as the reporter continued.  
  
_"Sietz, not a prominent figure in the military, has gained support with a rapidity that many in other nations find alarming. Unofficially promoted to General by consensus of the army, Sietz has already ordered the arrests of generals Caraway, Hadov, and Seper on allegations of supporting the Sorceress's coup. Placing himself in the President's power seat, he may well be on the road to becoming yet another military dictator."_  
  
"That's bad, ya--" a voice began, but was quickly silenced.  
  
_"In what may be a bid to show Galbadia's good intent to the rest of the world, Sietz has also issued an arrest warrant for Almasy, and seeks the assistance of all other world nations in bringing the Knight to justice. Timber and Dollet have already promised their cooperation, and a response is anticipated from Esthar and Balamb within twenty-four hours. In other news...."_  
  
"That's _bad_, ya know!"  
  
Seifer leaned back pensively, fingers tapping on the hilt of the Hyperion. The audio feed continued to spill out over the HD cable, but he wasn't listening any more.  
  
"So what're we gonna do?" Raijin asked, gesturing worriedly. "We gonna go back to Garden? I bet Cid--"  
  
"No." Seifer shook his head, repeating himself more emphatically. "_No._ I'm not going back there." Casting a sidelong glance at Raijin, he repressed a growl. "You honestly think they're gonna take us back? Anyway, going to Garden is sure to provoke an attack, and then I _know _they'll hand us over."  
  
Raijin crossed his arms. "So--"  
  
"SHOCK."  
  
Both Seifer and Raijin turned to look at the third occupant of the room, who was still engrossed in the news report. "What is it, Fuj'?" Raijin asked, only to be silenced by an imperative wave of Fujin's hand.  
  
_"...occured at night, in the caravan town of Oasis Kalm. The victim ws killed in extraordinary fashion: every bone in his upper torso was crushed, driving sharp fragments of bone into the heart and lungs. The ultimate cause of death was internal hemmorhage. Authorities are confounded as to who could be respon--"_  
  
Fujin deftly switched off the audio feed, her one eye unfocused and distant. She looked genuinely troubled.  
  
"What's wrong?" Raijin asked, uneasy. Fujin's look suddenly turned angry, and she burst from her seat and dealt him a stinging blow to the face that sent him staggering backward.  
  
"_RAGE_!" she bellowed, both hands fisting and her entire form quivering. Raijin scrambled back out of attack range, cowering.  
  
"Fujin, what the hell?" Seifer demanded. Fujin turned to face him, red eye burning. Seifer took an involuntary step back. Fujin really _could _be scary at times.  
  
She blinked, anger evaporating from her face. Swaying slightly, she raised a hand to her eyepatch and pressed softly, as if trying to relieve an ache. "...rage," she whispered, voice just on the bounds of the audible. As if it was possible, she seemed to have gone even paler.  
  
Seifer risked stepping forward, placing both hands on Fujin's shoulders to steady her. "...what's up?" he asked, uncomfortable.  
  
"...tired," Fujin murmured. "Fatigue."  
  
Eye drooping, Fujin collapsed. Seifer stepped forward quickly to catch her, casting a worried glance at Raijin. "What's going on?" he asked, hoping that Raijin, who had known her for longer, might have some insight that he lacked.  
  
Raijin shook his head dumbly. "I dunno, ya know," he stammered. "M-maybe she just needs to sleep, ya know?"  
  
Setting Fujin down in one of the armchairs that fringed the room, Seifer glanced at the HD terminal and switched it back on. The announcer was nattering on about the stocks of some Galbadian corporation, so he shut it off again.  
  
While Seifer wasn't looking, Raijin quietly wiped away the single tear that had spilled from Fujin's eye.


	3. C1128513

**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Unthreated. Directive: None. Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel. Energy: Adequate. Directive: Forage. Location: Midwest Kashkabald Wasteland. Directive: Return to outpost at Hawk's Pass._**  
  
The noise was like a pressure building up in the back of his skull, overwhelming. On the hard composite surface of his right gauntlet there were a series of scratch lines: six of them, at the moment. Six days.  
  
_...I beat the record._  
  
Taiga couldn't suppress a grim chortle. Soon it developed into a hacking laugh, and he could see a few small ground-dwelling lizards scamper away in fright. Taiga charged at them, oddly amused by their panicked flight. "On with ye! On with ye!" he bellowed at them, waving them away with violent jerks of his arms. "Run away! The grand Esthar Army can't keep me, damn if the wasteland is going to take me! _On-ward evaaar_!"  
  
**_Taiga C1128513._**  
  
He ground to a halt, mirth souring and turning to disgust. He felt the urge to tear away his uniform, burn it, destroy it, do whatever it took to rid himself of the damnable thing, but he knew that there was no possible way. Stumbling onward, he glared at the baleful shapes of the mountains looming in the distance as if they were old opponents.  
  
"How long does it take to go insane?" he inquired of the emotionless voice in the back of his mind. "_How long_? Is it more... than six days?"  
  
**_Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel._**  
  
"They're _gone_, don't you get it? Gone, gone, _gone_!"  
  
**_Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel._**  
  
Taiga's hand went to the back of his neck, feeling the thick wire that lead from his collar into his skin and ultimately into his spine and up toward his cerebellum. For a moment, he wondered what yanking it out would do. The thought made him quickly lower his hand to his side.  
  
"Onward ever," he muttered, halfheartedly raising a fist in the rallying cry of the Esthar Army. "We'll see if I can make it to seven."  
  


-  


  
Night had fallen by the time he felt compelled to stop. Collapsing against the largest rock in the region, he glanced at the mountains. They seemed not to have neared.  
  
Tilting his head back and rolling his eyes upward, he sighed heavily. His mouth drew itself into a thin line, and one of the metal fingertips on his gauntlet travelled absently along beneath his collar, displacing the sweat that had accumulated. "Query," he said darkly, eyes piercing up toward the glittering stars.  
  
**_Query accepted._**  
  
"Define. Paranoid schizophrenia."  
  
**_An illness typified by an auditory and/or visual break from reality accompanied by paranoia raging from moderate to acute._**  
  
"Define. Schizoid personality disorder."  
  
**_An illness typified by a strong indifference to social and societal relationships._**  
  
"Define. Masochism."  
  
**_An illness typified by any derivation of pleasure either physical or emotional resulting from physical, mental or emotional abuse._**  
  
"Define. Necrophobia."  
  
**_An illness typified by unreasonable fear of death or those things related to death._**  
  
"Query."  
  
**_Query accepted._**  
  
"Define 'unreasonable' in regards to a fear of death."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
**_Phobia. A persistent aversion to or acute fear of a specific object, idea or situation despite all reassurances._**  
  
"That's not what I asked."  
  
There was silence.  
  
Taiga sighed. "Query."  
  
**_Query accepted._**  
  
"Recall previous five queries, disregard the fifth."  
  
**_Stored in memory._**  
  
"Analyze host."  
  
There was a pause, and Taiga could feel an electric rush running through his mind. Feelings and memories skirted the edge of his consciousness, flickering in and out of his mental vision before he had the time to recognize them.  
  
**_Analysis complete. No symptoms found._**  
  
_Not any more._ "Record in memory."  
  
**_Recorded._**  
  
Taiga thought for a moment. "You know, it's nice to have someone to talk to," he said.  
  
There was no response.  
  
"Bath." he stated. "I need a bath."  
  
Racking his memory for a moment, he tried to remember the myriad commands. He could have just as easily looked it up--he remembered the manual code--but he didn't feel like wading through the information.  
  
"...Directive."  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"Bathe."  
  
There was a slight gurgling noise, and a multitude of tiny jets and ultrasonic generators switched on inside the uniform, shaking and rinsing away the dust and sweat. Taiga raised a hand to his stomachplate, feeling the slight cool as the water ran through his implant to be sterilized. There was a brief sputter as the compressed waste unobtrusively exited a small tube in his left heel, spit out to mar the ground. Taiga glanced at it, wondering how that much grime could have gotten down into his suit.  
  
**_Analysis: Unthreated. Directive: None. Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel. Energy: Adequate. Directive: None. Location: West Kashkabald Wasteland. Directive: Return to outpost at Hawk's Pass._**  
  
Taiga resisted an annoyed groan. "Directive," he stated.  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"Sleep."  
  
There was a hiss as something was injected from his collar into his bloodstream, and the world dimmed. "Directive," he murmured as he began to drift off; he didn't wait for the confirmation. "Disable dreams."  
  
Darkness enveloped him.  



	4. Field Of Dreams

For the first time in years, the dreams returned.  
  
Blood spattered on pale skin, strawberry-red against the bloodless white. Screams weighted the air, accompanied by the clicking of Army-issue shotguns and the _whirr_ of shotels flying. The metallic locks of restraints snapping into place, words like "Re-conditioning" and "tribunal" floating down to her. In the chaos, no one could hear the gagging coughs that racked her.  
  
(_Of course, it wasn't as if they got away with it. Oh, no. Each and every one of them got their due before the day was out. Each and every one...._)  
  
...the wind howled outside as the teams came in, surveying the damage. She whimpered, but not loudly; they didn't find her until the detectives came in to search for clues. And they found _her_ first; the butchered body of a woman, neither young nor old, neck a mass of bloody tissue and chest purpled and broken but otherwise untouched and treated--evidently--with some degree of respect. It wasn't until they carefully shifted the couch that they found her in the small recess, most of her face a bruise, one eye crushed beyond all repair. They wasted no time then, of course; she was rushed to a hospital of fair repute, treated immediately, and then turned over.  
  
(_Hours seemed to pass, but this was the way with these dreams. Who knew how long she would sleep, how much past she would revisit? Who knew how much of her life would play before her eyes, bringing all of its horrors back like open wounds, begging to be dressed again? Who knew? Who could ever know?_)  
  
The first few years were her itinerent years, passing from place to place, orphanage to foster home, monastery to children's shelter. Always the new kid, always the stranger. The only thing that was the same was the wind, always loud in the South Plains, always straightforward and unforgiving. She ran with it when she could, never asking anything, only trying to prove herself. To ingratiate this strange ally, to leave her peers far behind.  
  
(_But the wind isn't always a friend. It doesn't always help you. Sometimes it kicks up dust so that you can't see or breathe... sometimes it yells so loudly that the sky could fall and you would never hear...._)  
  
Once, when she returned to one of the better foster homes, she was met by another detective. Inside lay her late not-mother and not-father, each killed by force, chests reduced to black-and-blue pillows of crushed bone but unbroken skin. The detective spirited her away, taking her in cars with tinted windows and through dark internal hallways to a sterile, unmonitored room where she was set in a plastic chair and told that she would need a new name, a new home. They asked her what she wanted her name to be....  
  
She had taken a small book out with her on her run with the wind. She turned it over and over, eye boring into its leather binding. It was about the wind, and the storms, and the earth, and all manner of things. She set more store in it than she did in most books.  
  
"Fujin," she said softly, like a zephyr through the tallgrass. She took a breath and tried to speak more loudly, and the name "FUJIN!" boomed out of her like thunder.  
  
And the official nodded, and recorded it, and she was shipped off to the very last home she was to ever need.  
  
(_The dreamworld faded there, and it was a relief. But the back of her mind still mulled over it, reconstructing death after gruesome death--some from records she had found, others from rumors she had heard--no two the same, but all of them with one distinct similarity. And she couldn't help but wonder as the days went by...._)


	5. Skirmish

The sun beat down on the Balamb streets, reflecting off the white brick and making Nida earnestly wish that he had brought a pair of sunglasses. Quistis had thrown up a hand to shield her eyes, and Squall stood just ahead, squinting and at the same time trying very hard to make it seem as if he was _not_ squinting. It was almost comical.  
  
"We've gone from the Police to the Housing Regulator, from Housing to Neighborhood Watch, from Watch to Mrs. Dincht, and from Mrs. Dincht to the Hotel, and now the Hotel Manager wants us to talk to the Police," Quistis noted with a touch of exasperation, ticking off their stops on her fingers. Is Cid _sure_ that Seifer is here?"  
  
"Is Cid ever sure of anything?" Nida asked.  
  
Squall crossed his arms, probably mentally cursing everything from Seifer to Cid to the bright sun overhead.  
  
"I feel," Quistis was remarking, "as if it's something terribly obvious that we're missing because we've been looking for something terribly covert. As if it's right under our noses."  
  
Nida sighed, looking up into the sky to avoid the glare of the street. "What like that mass gathering of people at the train station?" he asked tiredly.  
  
"I mean something like--" Quistis stopped in her verbal tracks. "...come to think of it, Seifer _would_ attract a crowd...."  
  
Nida groaned. "Natural luck," he said. "He _would_ be in the last possible place we would ever look."  
  
Squall scowled, and stepped onto the blinding street. Quistis and Nida fell into step just behind him, crossing the distance between the Hotel and the Station quickly. Slipping through the muttering crowd with a grace only a SeeD or a pickpocket could master, they soon came close enough to see--  
  
--a very familiar figure, casually seated on a waiting bench against the wall, taking pains to polish a combat knife a bit too carefully, and from time to time glancing up to stare one of the more fidgety members of the crowd into submission.  
  
Nida crossed his arms, elbowing Squall discreetly. "This is going to be really messy, isn't it?" he asked. If he knew anything about the Commander, it was that he wouldn't want this to be a public confrontation.  
  
Squall nodded a curt affirmative, eyes darkening. Taking in the crowd at a glance, he put on his best Official Business face and stepped forward, Nida and Quistis only a pace behind.  
  
The crowd parted them, perhaps realizing that they were about to do something to take care of the situation. Seifer glanced up, face hardening into a mask of stony apathy mixed with mild disdain. Squall took a breath, mentally running through every Oratory and Public Speaking course he had been _required_ to take at Garden.  
  
"By the authority of the independent organization of SeeD, within the jurisdiction of international law as per the statues set forth in the conferences of forty seventy-three and forty seventy-five, we are placing you under arrest to be returned immediately to Garden. You will come with us immediately and without any show of resistance."  
  
A small, slightly-amused smile had begun to manifest on Seifer's face as soon as Squall had begun his speech, and by now it had developed into a full smirk. Looking Squall directly in the eye, he responded "No." And looked away.  
  
A train whistle echoed from inside the track tunnel, alerting all the people in the station for legitimate reason that their ride was almost there. Squall waited until he could hear himself think before he retorted.  
  
"We're authorized to take whatever measures we deem appropriate, up to and including the use of force."  
  
Seifer glanced up, standing and shoving the combat knife back into its sheath at his hip. Turning to face them, he drew himself up to his full height and shrugged amiably. "Maybe later," he said nonchalantly as the train rolled into the station.  
  
There was a murmur in the crowd as Seifer turned to board the train, and Nida glanced to Squall for instruction. Squall was glaring at Seifer with a great deal of masked aggravation, and before anyone could stop him or think of doing anything, he had taken a pair of steps forward to place himself in a position in which he could easily draw his gunblade and block Seifer's path.  
  
Seifer froze, but it seemed like he was the only one in the area who _stopped_ moving. Most of the bystanders scattered, some screamed, and a good deal dove behind cover to watch as if this were some sort of gunfighter movie and they were about to see a shootout at the village saloon.  
  
Seifer turned his head slowly, looking down the blade at his throat to the SeeD who held it. "I _said_," he stressed, "_maybe later_."  
  
"You don't have a choice, Seifer," Squall growled quietly. Implied was the request, _"Let's not make this any more sensational than it already is."_ They would already be the talk of the town for at least a week as it was....  
  
Seifer's expression darkened for a moment, but it quickly went back to its original form of unimpressed cool. After all, there were _people_ watching--and Seifer Almasy never failed to perform for an audience.  
  
Nida, with a quick glance at Quistis, drew his katana and slipped around Seifer's side to stand between him and the train. "What _exactly_ do you think you're doing," he asked flatly. Seifer turned a bored look on him.  
  
"Boarding a train," he responded. "_If_ you'll excuse me?"  
  
"No." Quistis joined in now, completing the three-person arc that separated Seifer from his destination. "You're coming back to Garden if _ooph--_"  
  
With a sudden burst of motion, Seifer ducked and drew the Hyperion, punching Quistis in the stomach with the hilt. A quick spincut brought both Nida and Squall to the defensive, and two sets of sparks showered from two separate parries. Seifer lunged at Squall, spinning and aiming for a midriff hit. Squall responded with an answering spin, carrying himself past Seifer and--  
  
--inadvertently opening a path for his rival--  
  
Seifer dashed through the opening, leaping onto the entrance of the train and using the ticket to grant himself access to the inner room of the car. Nida reacted more quickly than Squall, dashing after Seifer, evading the ticket man, and slipping in through the door before it closed. Squall followed at a run, jumping into the train just as the outer door swung shut.  
  
Quistis finally got to her feet and dispelled the stars from her eyes, just in time to see the train hoot once and begin to roll away. Trying to preserve some public dignity, she quietly straightened herself up and looked after the departing train with an air of dispassionate regard. Turning, she began to walk slowly out of the Station.  
  
Her dignified exit was interrupted by a short, portly man who nervously tugged at her elbow as she passed. "Excuse me," he wheedled. "Those two didn't pay--that's six thousand gil--"  
  
Quistis forced a calm smile onto her face. "Charge it to SeeD's running account," she said, slipping out into the blinding sunlight and trying to decide what she was going to tell Cid.


	6. Encounter

"Hey down the merry-o, a Cyborg's life for me!"  
  
The toneless song brushed over the dirt, the only sound in the dry heat. Taiga walked resolutely forward, concentrating on nothing more than setting one foot in front of the other and letting the mindless song spill out of his lips on its own accord.  
  
"Ayoh-ho-ho and a bottle of--_hell_."  
  
Cresting a small hill, he looked down to see the tent nestled in the miniature valley. A pair of weathered, burly men and an equally weathered, burly woman stood outside it, staring up at him; alerted by his song and probably wondering what all the ruckus was about.  
  
"Hello!" he called down to them as amiably as possible, walking slowly down the hill and hoping that there weren't folks who resented Estharan power and any Estharan presence. "Archaeologists, I bet?"  
  
Man #1, the taller of the two, spat something onto the ground. "None o' yer business," he snarled. Taiga groaned internally.  
  
"I'm afraid it is my business," he said, lying. "I'm with the Estharan Special Corps, unit designation Taiga C1128513. You can call me either Taiga or C1128513, I don't much mind either way." Coming to a halt just a bit in front of them, he crossed his arms and continued with a certain amount of irony. "I've been dispatched here on orders to monitor activity in this region, and if you don't have an archaeology, botany, zoology, minerology, teratobiology, or related permit, I'm afraid I'll have to report you to the Estharan Scientific Ordinance Commission."  
  
"Gerroff wi' yer," the woman scowled, waving a hand to shoo him off. "Ye dun even have them, whatisyoucallit, shotgun weapons."  
  
Taiga shrugged amiably. "In my unit, we don't rely on the shotels and helmets," he said. "I know a variety of hand-to-hand techniques, and--"  
  
"Aye, aye," Man #1 said. "We en't got any permit, but we en't leaving."  
  
"Ah, I see," Taiga responded. "Well, maybe I'll just take a look inside your tent, make sure that there's nothing illicit going on?"  
  
Man #2 frowned, moving slightly so that he stood between Taiga and the tent. No one said anything.  
  
"Come, now," Taiga said. "Surely you're at least going to invite me in for some food, shade and drink? It's been a long walk out here."  
  
"En't got anything we give t' yer," Man #1 said.  
  
"Is this any way to treat an Esthar official?" Taiga growled.  
  
"Dun care iff'n yer an 'ficcial," Man #2 said, in a voice that seemed several notes too high for a man of his girth.  
  
Taiga's mood turned sour very quickly. "Look," he said, dropping all pretenses of civility. "I'll even with you. I'm a deserter, have been before, reconditioned at least five times, and I'm trying to get away from the hellhole that is my life. I'm sure you can understand that, being who--and what--I assume you are. Now, the implants are telling me that my energy is depleted and that I need to eat, and if it gets down to 'drained' they'll shut me off like a computer monitor to conserve energy until search parties can find me. I don't much want that. I'm sure you have food in there; people don't come into the wastes with tents and no food. And if you don't help me, you're going to become the next in a string of rather brutal murders. I'm sure that _none_ of us want _that_."  
  
The trio's eyes narrowed. Man #1 and the woman stepped backward, engaging quickly in a low conversation. Man #2 glared at Taiga, and there was a tense silence.  
  
The woman stepped forward. "We'r no interested in bein' caught by none 'ficcials," she told him. "We feed yer, yer says _nut'ing_. Yer get t'at?"  
  
Taiga nodded. "Who am I going to turn you in to?" he asked. "I'm on the run, you know. I'm not going to be dropping in to tango with lawmen anytime soon, if I can help it."  
  
The woman nodded. "Gerrin wi' yer," she growled. "Et up and leave."  
  
Men #1 and #2 stepped aside, moving to another part of their camp and pretending to ignore him. The woman brushed aside the tent flap, ducking inside. Taiga followed.  
  
It was impossible to keep light out of one of these tents during the day; it peeped through the semiopaque fabric, spilled in through dozens of pinholes, leaked through every imperfect stitch and seam. No lights were on inside the tent--they didn't need to be.  
  
It was quite bright enough to see the woman on the floor, tied hand and foot, obviously beaten, obviously unconscious. It was quite bright enough to see the bruises which colored her otherwise fair skin.  
  
He grimaced in distaste and looked away. It wasn't _his_ problem, after all.  
  
But, still....  
  
"Directive," he muttered.  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"One-fifth tranquilize."  
  
There was a hiss in the collar of his suit, and he felt the calming drugs slip into his system and begin to take effect. He glanced over to see the criminal woman staring at him, and he made an explanatory gesture to his suit.  
  
"My ICI," he explained, taking a seat. "Individual Cybernetic Interface. I wasn't feeling too good. My suit can manufacture a limited number of drugs and hormones with its biocomponents, as long as I get enough food."  
  
The woman grunted, and went back to rummaging in the cooler set against one wall. Fishing out a package of something freeze-dried, cheap, and long-lasting, she handed it to him gracelessly.  
  
Taiga took it, pulling off the foil wrap and sinking his teeth into the tasteless, gritty paste. He could recognize it for what it was--synthesized nutritional compound--but that didn't mean he couldn't wonder whether this was the kind of gruel they themselves ate or whether they reserved it especially for company.  
  
"So," he asked between bites. "What's _her_ story?"  
  
"Crossed us," the woman responded flatly. It seemed she didn't want to talk on the matter.  
  
Taiga glanced down at the woman on the floor. She was tall and well-muscled; thick-boned, but tall enough that she didn't seem bulky. Her hair was a light enough blonde that it almost looked white, and it lay in thin, careless locks across her shoulders and the floor. Her uniform--or what was left of it after the cuts and rips--seemed to designate a lower-level field researcher in the Estharan Scientific Corps.  
  
Reaching out with a foot, Taiga rolled her over onto her back and glanced at the badge on her chest. "Biomechanics," he snorted derisively. "If she had been in Cybernetics I would have seen how much you wanted for her."  
  
The woman shot him a glance. "En't fer sale," she said darkly.  
  
"She reminds me of someone," Taiga explained. "And it would be nice to have someone who knew about cybernetics to talk to."  
  
The woman crossed her arms. "Done?"  
  
Taiga finished off the paste. "Water?" he asked.  
  
The woman scowled and dug out a canteen. Taiga took it, unscrewed the top, and gestured to the woman.  
  
"What'd she do to you?" he asked, before tilting back the canteen and draining it.  
  
The woman glared at him. "None o' yer business," she said forcefully.  
  
Man #1 stuck his head in the flap, caught the woman's eye, and then backed out. Taiga glanced at the doorflap, handing back the canteen. "I'll be going, then," he said, standing and turning for the door.  
  
The woman grunted, and motioned to the doorflap. Taiga pushed aside the loose canvas, and paused as he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.  
  
_Oh, hell._  
  
**_Taiga C1128513,_** the ICI broke in.**_ Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Stall._**  
  
"You don't want to do that," Taiga said dangerously. There was a click from behind him, and his suit registered the slight pressure of a gun being pressed to his back.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Stall._**  
  
"No, really," Taiga said. "You're going to turn me in? The reward's not worth the trouble."  
  
Man #1 shoved his gun a bit closer, frowning. "I'll shoot ye quiet," he warned.  
  
Taiga could feel a familiar pressure building up in the back of his skull. "Listen," he said, hoping that the urgency conveyed in his voice would reach the man. "You have about five seconds before--"  
  
He never got a chance to finish the sentence.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Attack._**  
  
The world disappeared.


	7. Confrontations

Squall paced like a caged lion in the outer room of the train, unable even to grant himself access to the inside without an electronic ticket. Nida and Seifer were both inside, he knew--and he also knew that since through the outer room was the only way out, he would be seeing them both again as soon as they reached Timber. Still, it didn't help his disposition any that he had no idea what was going on.  
  
_Well,_ he reasoned, _at least it's not fighting. I should be able to _hear_ it if a bloodbath develops...._  
_  
...then again, Nida trained as an assassin. ...oh, hell._  
  
The train ride was incredibly monotonous, punctuated only by brief flashes of light as the window window passed one of the tunnel's lights. A low rumble echoed up from the point where the wheels met the track, but that had long since faded to background noise. And he had been pacing almost continuously.  
  
It came as a distinct relief when the train intercom broke in over the speaker system on the wall.  
  
_"Next stop Timber, Timber.... Next stop Timber, Timber...."_  
  
There was a brief lurch as the train rose from the tunnel and onto the countryside surrounding Timber, and the light spilling in through the window made him wince. The certainty that dealing with Seifer again was going to put him in an even worse mood wasn't making him feel any better.  
  
Thus, it came as a sort of mixed blessing when the door slid open to allow Nida--and only Nida--through.  
  
Nida looked resigned, and a bit annoyed. "Yeah," he started. "...he says that he's not going to negotiate terms until you get off the train."  
  
Squall shook his head. "What is there to negotiate?"  
  
"Well, I explained to him why we were after him, and he said something about not needing SeeD protection, and I insisted, and he said something about following Fujin and Raijin out here and how we weren't going to stop him. And I _think_ I got him to agree to come back to Garden once he's found them, but I think that backing him into a corner wouldn't be the best way to press our advantage. So I honestly think that you might just want to get off the train."  
  
Squall turned the information over in his head for a moment. "...what do you mean, he's following Fujin and Raijin?"  
  
"What, you think he told _me_ everything?" Nida shook his head. "All he told me was that they left to go to Centra, and he wants to find them. Like _I_ know why."  
  
Squall shook his head. "Our orders--"  
  
"--probably, knowing Cid, say something about how we're to bring Seifer back safely. And, knowing Cid, I'll also bet that there's no specifics in there about a deadline of any sort. And, really, how long to you think carting him back to Garden will _last_ if he's dead-set on going after those two?"  
  
After a moment, Squall was forced to admit that Nida had a point. "...fine," he said darkly, wondering how much more he was going to have to concede to Seifer. "But as soon as we find Fujin and Raijin--"  
  
Nida held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Hey, discuss that with Seifer. I'm not his agent."  
  
Squall glowered. However, finding nothing else to say, he turned and got off the train.  
  


-  


  
Raijin was tired.  
  
He had a feeling that he was meant to be tired. He had a feeling that Fujin was trying to wear him out and leave him behind. He knew she wanted to be left alone.  
  
He also knew that, under the circumstances, it might be best not to leave her.  
  
Still, he was really beginning to wish that there was a train going to--wherever they were going.  
  
"Hey, Fuj'?"  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
That was a change, at least--she was speaking to him now.  
  
"Where're we headin'?"  
  
Fujin made a little growl, but didn't say anything.  
  
"There's nothin' out here, ya know? I mean, there's the Plains, but there's nothin' here. I think we should go home, ya know? It's probably not the same guy, anyway."  
  
Fujin ignored him.  
  
Raijin sped up a little, drawing up alongside her. "C'mon," he plead. "At leat tell me where we're goin'?"  
  
"LANKER DOCKS."  
  
"An' then?"  
  
"CENTRA."  
  
The word almost made him fall over. "C-Centra? Why? There's nothin' there, Fuj'! Just rocks and dirt an' stuff, ya know!"  
  
Fujin stopped, turned, and fixed him with a glare strong enough to ignite wood. "THEN GO."  
  
Raijin deflated. "Man... Fuj', ya know I can't just leave you! Wh-what'll Seifer say?"  
  
"APATHY."  
  
"It's--it's just crazy, ya know?" Raijin said, returning to his tactic of convincing her it wasn't a good idea. "What're we gonna do in Centra? Where're we goin'?"  
  
"OASIS KALM."  
  
Raijin jumped. "_Oasis K_--"  
  
"QUIET." Fujin turned on her heel and stalked off. Raijin ran to catch up with her.  
  
"That's all the way in the Desert, ya know! It'll take forever! An'--an' it's dangerous, ya know!"  
  
Fujin turned again, swinging an arm around to point back at Timber. "THEN **GO**."  
  
Raijin hung his head. "Ya know I'm not gonna."  
  
"THEN, QUIET."  
  
Fujin walked away. Raijin, utterly defeated, had no choice but to follow.  



	8. Personality Clash

At least there was no blood this time, Taiga decided.  
  
No blood, but a lot of dead bodies.  
  
Actually, it wasn't that bad. He had been in situations where he had had to wade through dead; this was only three civilians, and they were probably criminal civilians, anyway. So the fact that they had been killed was probably not such a big deal.  
  
At least, that was what he kept telling himself. He was pretty sure that he wasn't fooling himself at all, but he could always keep trying.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513,_** the ICI chimed in predictably.**_ Analysis: Unthreated. Directive: None. Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel. Energy: High. Directive: None. Location: Southwest Kashkabald Wasteland. Directive: Return to outpost at Hawk's Pass._**  
  
"You realize that you just killed three people, don't you?"  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"They could have made an AI," Taiga grumbled. "They could have given you a morality program. They could have given you a damn _conscience_. But no, they didn't. Damn you to the Nine Grandidan Hells."  
  
Again, there was no answer.  
  
"Well," he said, moving to the one other person in the tent who wasn't dead, "shall we see what her story is? Directive."  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"Analyze subject."  
  
His eyes skipped over the woman, hands automatically moving to check her pulse and breath rate. The ICI connected with some faraway Estharan database, pulling information into his skull.  
  
**_Hali Lu, FO; 87% probability. Biomechanics, Fifth Level. Respiration 23.7 bpm. Pulse 76.4 ppm. Temperature 36.8 degrees celsius._**  
  
"Well, that's good." Glancing around the tent, he located a pocketknife and set to work removing the woman's bonds. She had obviously been tied to last--when the last of the cord fell to the ground, he could see deep white impressions in her wrists and ankles. But--he hoped--the cords hadn't completely cut off her circulation. He really didn't want to have to deal with amputations.  
  
Locating a canteen, he raised the woman's head and began to dribble water slowly across her lips and face. After a few moments she began to stir slightly, and he put the canteen aside.  
  
And had he not been a cyborg, he would never have been able to catch her as she twisted and struck.  
  
As it was, he had latched onto both of her wrists before the human part of his brain had time to react.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Negotiate,_** the ICI chipped in unhelpfully.  
  
"A little violent for a scientist, aren't you?"  
  
The woman stared at him as if he was a Galbadian. "What in _hell_ are you doing out here?" she demanded.  
  
Taiga's mood began to sour immediately upon hearing her tone. "Well, from what I can tell, I'm saving you."  
  
She tugged on her wrists, achieving nothing. "Unhand me, cyborg."  
  
"As long as you don't try to attack me again," Taiga answered.  
  
The woman's gaze shifted to the three corpses on the ground. "I'm not quite _that_ stupid."  
  
Taiga let her go.  
  
The woman stood, and made a show of brushing off her rags. Looking down at her wrists, she growled a little. "Pins and needles all over," she muttered.  
  
"Hali Lu, right?" Taiga asked, standing. She nodded.  
  
"Field Officer Lu, Biomechanics," she said. "Where am I?"  
  
"Southwest Kashkabald Wasteland," Taiga said. "My name would be Taiga C1128513, by the way."  
  
Lu snorted. "How cute. The machine has a name."  
  
Taiga's mood soured a bit more. "Don't tell me, you're one of those anti-cybernetics creeps and somehow offended by my existence."  
  
She turned, crossing her arms. "You're a biotechnological abomination whose sole purpose is to wage war. What is there _not_ to be offended by?"  
  
"Well, lady, I am what I am." He snarled a bit. "It isn't like I had too much choice in the matter."  
  
"You could always deactivate yourself."  
  
"Oh, sure, the age-old 'kill yourself for the sake of bettering humanity' gig. Easy for you to say, your life not being under debate."  
  
She kneeled, rifling through the tent packs. "If I was a cyborg, I'd sure as _hell_ kill myself."  
  
Taiga snarled a bit more. "I could always do that for you."  
  
"Oh, the war machine wants to kill. Big surprise." Lu located a light shirt, and began changing into it. Taiga decided to return a bit of the civility she hadn't shown him and turned away.  
  
"You know, you're stuck out here in the wilderness with me. You could try being nice."  
  
"Huh." Lu ignored the suggestion.  
  
"Lu, eh?"  
  
"That would be my name."  
  
"You remind me of someone." Taiga gave a dark chuckle. "Except she was a lot nicer." He paused a second for emphasis. "She's dead now."  
  
"How charming."  
  
Taiga turned, seeing her just in the process of buttoning up the shirt. "You know," he said, "_she_ was smart enough to see that we weren't all killing machines."  
  
Lu looked up at him. "Then what are you?"  
  
"Human, mostly."  
  
There was a second of silence, and then she laughed in his face. Once she had stopped, she stood up. Taiga was glaring at her, but she ignored it. "You're on range patrol, right? You can escort me to the nearest outpost."  
  
"I don't think so," Taiga said. "I'm not going back."  
  
"What?"  
  
"_This_ machine decided to malfunction. I'm a renegade. Not heading back there. And," he fixed her with a smoldering glower, "for the near future, neither are you."


	9. Hunting And Chasing

The tip of the Hyperion impacted the ground, making a small dent in the tar that filled--or attempted to fill--the cracks spreading across the Timber sidewalks. Seifer Almasy was in a bad mood.  
  
"Oasis Kalm." Squall sounded three parts annoyed to one part condescending. Seifer rolled his eyes.  
  
"That _is_ what I said."  
  
"And why would Fujin want to go to the Kashkabald Desert?"  
  
"Because that's what was on the news that made her flip out," Seifer explained. "Really. Do I have to outline everything for you, or can we just _leave_?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how long it will take to get there?"  
  
"Trust me, Leonhart, I'm not looking forward to spending that much time together any more than you are." The Hyperion sank a bit deeper into the tar.  
  
"Hey, guys?" Nida tried to break in.  
  
"Do you know for certain that's where she's heading?"  
  
Seifer growled. "_No_, Leonhart, but if you have a better idea, I'm open to suggestions. And going back to Garden doesn't count."  
  
"There are no trains or boats to Lower Centra," Squall stated.  
  
"No, but there's a boat to Upper Centra on the Lanker coast and there are ferries from there," Seifer responded. "I did bother to look all this up."  
  
"Hey," Nida tried again with as much success.  
  
"And if we don't manage to intercept her?"  
  
"Then I'll think of something _if_ that happens."  
  
"Like?"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
The third time proved to be the charm, and both of the arguing parties turned to look at Nida--who appeared just as annoyed as they were.  
  
"Look," he said, "maybe I don't know how this whole 'searching and finding' thing works, but I get the impression that it will be a lot faster if we went ahead and started looking. Can we, now?"  
  
Seifer smirked, and Squall crossed his arms. "Fine," he stated flatly.  
  
"Why don't we just agree that if we've gotten to Oasis Kalm without running into them, we turn back and go to Garden. Okay? Sound good?"  
  
Squall quirked an eyebrow, and Seifer's smirk vanished. "Fine," he agreed in ill grace.  
  
"Right. Now, in the interests of _my_ not having to spend too much time with _either_ of you, let's leave."  
  
Nida considered walking off at that point, but decided that it might not be the best decision to leave Squall and Seifer alone--especially since he didn't have the kind of _presence_ that would compel anyone to follow him if he did walk off. So, instead, he waited for Squall to motion forward with his gunblade.  
  
"After you."  
  
Seifer gave a sardonic smile and a mocking little bow, and stepped forward and past Nida without so much as a glance in his direction. Nida tried to catch Squall's eye for a moment, but Squall ignored him.  
  
It was in a very bad collective mood that they set out on the first leg of their journey.  
  


-  


  
The Lanker Docks were nothing more than a collection of warehouses and piers on the coastal edge of the Lanker Plains, sunk between ridges and rises and almost invisible. Which served, actually, as a fair metaphor for the docks themselves--the only function they served was to ferry archaeologists and their ilk to Centra and back, and as a result could probably disappear from the face of the world without more than a handful of people noticing or caring. The ships they serviced were long, wide monstrosities suited for carrying people, animals, and equipment--just not very quickly, in any case.  
  
Fujin, for all that she had seemed to be pursuing an urgent goal, didn't seem to be too put off by the day-long wait to catch a ferry or the fact that the ferry ride would take several more days. She sat in a room of the small Stopover Hotel--more a stopover than a hotel--and seemed to be an emblem of discipline, if not patience.  
  
And at least she had lost that burning, angry look.  
  
And maybe that was why Raijin decided it was time to strike up a conversation again.  
  
"...h-hey, Fuj'?"  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"What're we doin' out here? I mean, I dunno why we're even chasin' this guy, ya know? I'm a bit confused, is all."  
  
Fujin stared at him for a moment, but not angrily. "He reminds me of someone," she whispered.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Someone."  
  
Raijin sighed. Fujin seemed to be in one of her unresponsive moods. Which was, of course, normal--but he could always hope for a rare moment of lucidity. "C'mon, Fuj'--"  
  
"You'll see if I'm right." Fujin turned away, engrossing herself in studying the patterns in the plaster walls. Raijin suppressed a shiver.  
  
"Ya know," he began, "I really don't think it's the same guy, if thats who you think it is. What're the odds? He's probably dead by now, ya--"  
  
Fujin had turned back to stare at him, and her eye was burning like a flare. "NO," she pronounced, anger in every facet of the word. "**_NOT_** DEAD."  
  
Raijin shrunk back. "O-okay, ya know?" he stammered. "I just--you never act like this, ya--"  
  
"QUIET," Fujin said--with all the force and authority needed to end the conversation for the foreseeable future.  
  
She turned back to the wall and lost herself in her own musings--for which Raijin was _almost_ glad.


	10. Conflict

"You're kidding me." Lu _almost_ looked amused.  
  
Taiga didn't. "Do I look like a machine that would lie?"  
  
"You know, they do have reconditioning programs for people like you," Lu suggested. "I hear they're not too hard to get into, especially if you act against the norm."  
  
"Yeah," Taiga agreed. "Tried it. Didn't like it. Don't plan to go back."  
  
Lu laughed. "It's not like a drug, you know," she said darkly. "It's not a choice that _you_ get to make."  
  
Taiga's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in. "Trust me, _Field Officer Lu_," he growled. "_I_ know that better than _you_ could imagine."  
  
"Well," she said, "it might not be fun for you, but you're basically a living machine anyway, right? Don't you think it might be a tad dangerous for you to run around without maintenance?"  
  
Taiga decided that Lu's tone had shifted from bratty to condescending, and reacted in kind. "Well, seeing as you know _so much_ about cyborgs, why don't you see if you can fix me?"  
  
Lu gave him a crooked smile. "Can't do that, someone beat me to it," she said, and smirked.  
  
Taiga blushed, feeling his cheeks down to his jowls burning. "I--that was--god _damn_ you!" he spluttered, both hands clenching into fists. "That--_screw_ you! Vulgar and goddamn--" he stopped because he couldn't think up a word more emphatic than "mean."  
  
Lu arched an eyebrow. "Hyne help me," she drawled, "I've been kidnapped by the village eunuch." She eyed him carefully. "Maybe I should just walk back on my own."  
  
Taiga's head fell forward, hair falling down in dirty curtains on either side of his face. Breathing carefully, he gave serious consideration to asking his suit to tranquilize him before deciding that that would just be more material for Lu to ridicule. "Charming as your company isn't," he said once he felt reasonably assured that he could speak without his voice cracking, "I'm not going to let you get away." He looked up, meeting Lu's flat gaze with a dark one of his own. "I can't take the risk that you'll tell them where I am."  
  
"Risk?" Both of Lu's eyebrows were raised, now. "I would have thought they could trace you through all that machinery."  
  
"What do you think I am, a homing device?" Taiga scoffed. "The suit doesn't do anything I don't tell it to do--except for reminding me what I'm _supposed_ to be doing. You think it has a brain to think for itself?"  
  
"I suppose not." Lu's lip curled slightly. "If it did, they wouldn't need you bastards inside it."  
  
Taiga shook his head. "I was going to ask why those guys had you tied up and beaten senseless, but I don't think I need to anymore," he said. "Can we just raid this place and leave? I'm getting edgy around here."  
  
"Robbing the dead," Lu said, turning to one of the packs on the tent floor. "Well, why not? I've already teamed up with the Machine With A Soul, let's see how much lower I can go?"  
  
The ICI concluded that he didn't have enough things to be annoyed at at the moment, and decided to pitch in. **_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Unthreated. Directive: None. Status: Incomplete. Directive: Recover helmet and shotel. Energy: High. Directive: None. Location: Southwest Kashkabald Wasteland. Directive: Return to outpost at Hawk's Pass.  
  
_**Taiga grabbed one of the packs, clipping on the straps and stuffing the contents of the food cooler into it. "They wouldn't be dead if they hadn't tried to take me hostage," he said.  
  
"Oh, yes, shame on them."  
  
"Would it be too much to ask for you to _shut up_ for the term of your natural life?" Taiga growled.  
  
"Considering I don't take orders from machines--military or otherwise--I'd have to say yes."  
  
Taiga almost gave up right there. Violence would only giver her more to be offended by; civility was lost on her. Both of those options cut off, Taiga decided to resort to his third: ignoring her as much as he could.  
  
"Come on," he snapped. "And keep up. I don't want to have to carry you."  
  
"Oh, yes, _sir_, cyborg, _sir_," Lu said. "And I suppose it really is a lost cause persuading you to do the decent thing and bring me back to an Estharan base."  
  
Taiga ignored her.  
  
Actually, it made him feel kinda good.


	11. A Matter Of Self

The dreams wouldn't go away.  
  
They were as persistent as a swarm of locusts, as inescapable as night. And whenever she closed her eyes, they descended on her again--bypassing the years of control she had built up, waiting there like afterimages. She couldn't avoid them, she couldn't forget them, and she couldn't escape them.  
  
_(There was blood, of course. There was always blood in these dreams. Blood and hate, aching and quivering; potent as sulfur and dark as murder.)_  
  
It was hard to breathe. There was a faint smell of gunpowder in the air--funny, how the faint things came through. She couldn't smell the blood, or the dust, or the wood of the wall. But she could smell the gunpowder that came floating to her nose like the fragrance of an evil flower on a summer breeze.  
  
Funny, how the light was fading in and out like sunlight passing clouds.  
  
Funny, how everything hurt so much that nothing hurt any more.  
  
_(She was going to die here. She was going to die here staring out at the world, without breath or movement; going to die because it was a dream and she couldn't change it, because she was too weak to put it all behind her--that was why she was going, wasn't it? Going back to the place where she couldn't breathe or fight. And even if it was only a dream, she was going to die.)_  
  
She tried screaming. She didn't think it would help. She didn't think it would chase away the pain. She didn't think much of anything at that point.  
  
_(It was a dream, right? All a bad dream.)_  
  
Scar tissue and new homes. She hated them. She wanted to cut them out but she couldn't. Not unless she wanted to cut herself out, too. But she could hide them. She could hide them behind cloth and silence. And no one would ever have to know.  
  
_(But he'll know. And he'll be angry.)_  
  
All she could remember was that his eyes were green. A calm, pale green that reminded her of winter any time she saw it. Winter was a good time; it meant she didn't have to worry about the harsh sun, it meant she didn't have to be afraid. She didn't love any of the seasons, but she sometimes wished that the cold would never pass.  
  
Even if it was cold, even if the ice stung her fingers and made her shiver inside however many layers of coats, she wished it would never pass.  
  
She blinked once, and the eyes like winter were gone.  
  
_(But where--)_  
  
She woke up wondering who the hell she was.  
  


-  


  
When Raijin woke up, Fujin was already gone.  
  
He almost panicked at that, and he was out of the stopover's door before he had a chance to wonder where she went. But as soon as he got outside he spotted her--an easy task, given the size of the dock area.She was sitting on one of the benches, watching the ferry approach on the horizon.  
  
Knowing that it was a very, very bad idea, he went and sat down next to her. "I was kinda afraid ya went on without me, ya know?" he mentioned, gesturing to the ferry.  
  
Fujin ignored him, but he seemed to detect a bit less vehemence in her present silence than her earlier ones. That in mind, he decided to press his luck.  
  
"You feelin' alright, Fuj'?"  
  
"YES."  
  
His luck having met no resistance thus far, he decided to test its limits. Placing a hand lightly around her shoulders, he said something along the lines of "I th--" before she got up and walked away.  
  
Shortly thereafter, he figured out how lucky he was that she hadn't taken the opportunity to shatter his shinbones.  
  
He didn't go after her.


	12. Delays

Taiga had set a brisk pace across the desert, hoping that it would prove exhausting enough for Lu to render her speechless. But either he had underestimated her fitness or she simply didn't care about things like catching her breath--she had scarcely stopped complaining since they had left the criminal camp. He had been tempted more than once to tie her up, beat her senseless, and leave her--but he couldn't stand the thought of having her wake up and be even _more_ convinced that he was some kind of killing machine. So, although it pained him to do so, he let morality trump comfort and endured the abuse in stony silence.  
  
Anyway, he needed the time to think--Hawk's Pass was just over the next couple dunes, and it was routinely guarded by a small deployment of soldiers. This, of course, meant that he would either have to circumvent it--going through the mountains on either side--or find some way through without being detained. And that option--although theoretically preferable, given the rough terrain the Pass cut through--would almost undoubtedly lead to violence.  
  
Of course, the issue wasn't that he might have to fight--he had never been concerned about that, not even in regular army. It was hard to be uncomfortable with the thought of killing when the average cyborg had three to six years of emotional reprogramming, and after service in the Sorceress War it seemed unlikely that he would ever run into anything that wouldn't pale in comparison to the sights he had been exposed to on an almost daily basis. What he was concerned about was that he would leave another marker on the trail he had already begun--a trail that authorities were certain to be following already.  
  
...and, of course, there was the ever-present annoyance provided by Hali Lu.  
  
He had been industriously ignoring her for quite a while now, and it seemed to be having about as much effect on him as it was on her--in other words, it wasn't being particularly helpful. After all, she didn't take it as incentive to stop bitching, and he certainly wasn't less affected by hearing it. If anything, it was making him feel worse--without the option to lash back at her, he felt trapped, boxed into a place from which there was no possible escape.  
  
And she was pushing every iota of his frustration to her fullest advantage.  
  
As they crested the last dune, Taiga dropped into a crouch and gave an imperious motion for her to be silent--which she, of course, ignored. "Look," he said, interrupting her mid-rant. "Hawk's Pass. Gateway to the west."  
  
Lu snorted. "Yeah? So what?"  
  
"We're going through there," Taiga informed her tersely. "They'll ask questions about me, so it's your job to get us through."  
  
"And why would I want to do that?"  
  
"Because if you don't, I'll have to. And my way will probably call for a lot of needless violence."  
  
Lu rolled her eyes. "I s_hould_ have seen that coming," she drawled.  
  
Taiga hunched slightly. "If you're so convinced that I'm going to go on a murderous rampage if you do anything I don't like, then why do you insist on doing things that I don't like?"  
  
"Huh." Lu tossed her head, starting down the dune toward the Pass.  
  
"Yeah, _don't_ answer that," Taiga griped loudly as he stood to follow her. "No, really, _don't_."  
  
Lu approached the guard, nodding to him and fishing out an ID card. "Hali Lu, fifth level Biomechanics," she said. "I have some business in Western Centra, so if you would be kind enough to let my partner and I through...?"  
  
The guard checked something against a database, and turned to Taiga. "Name and identification?" he asked.  
  
"Seiken C4452610," Taiga lied fluidly. "Extended registry 438-775-816-924, activated June third--"  
  
The guard waved him off. "It checks," he said. "You get in a fight? You're missing a helmet and shotel."  
  
Taiga opened his mouth to say that he didn't need one, but then thought better of it. "Yeah. Both got compromised somewhere back there, but I didn't have time to backtrack and requisition supplies."  
  
"Well, we can requisition them right here," the guard offered. "Should only take a few days to get them."  
  
"Not enough time, sorry," Taiga said. "Thanks for the offer. We have to be leaving, Lu has to get out to the research site as fast as I can get her there."  
  
The guard shrugged, utterly oblivious to the fact that Taiga was trying as hard as he could to rush the conversation. "If you come into contact with a cyborg designated Taiga C1128513, do your best to detain him," the guard advised. "I don't have a picture to show you, but he's reputed to be armed and extremely dangerous. He's--"  
  
"I'm familiar with him," Taiga said. "Worked together and all. Shame, what's going on. Have to go. Bye!" giving Lu a push, he started through the Pass.  
  
"You _owe_ me, 'borg," Lu snarled beneath her breath. Taiga gave her another small shove.  
  
"Save it."  
  


-  


  
The Ferry was late.  
  
Fujin looked decidedly irked at that, even given that it was only late by about three minutes or so. As soon as it had docked and moored she was at the boarding ramp, waiting impatiently for the man there to receive permission to begin boarding. Raijin--surprisingly--was there on time, as well; he stood carefully so that he was next to Fujin in the line, but not _too_ close as that might prompt something unpleasant.  
  
Besides, Fujin looked like she would grab the ticket checker and shake him to bits if she thought it might mean that the ferry would board and leave any faster.  
  
Fortunately, such actions proved to be unnecessary as someone appeared on deck, waving at the ticket man and then disappearing back into the main cabin. He had hardly opened his mouth before Fujin shoved her fare at him and stepped past him, heading up the ramp largely before he had time to react.  
  
He blinked a bit at that, shrugged to himself, and turned to Raijin. "One person, passenger cabin, no baggage?"  
  
Raijin nodded.  
  
"Four thousand," the man said.  
  
Raijin handed over the money. "That's more expensive than the trains, ya know?" he asked.  
  
The man rolled his eyes slightly, and turned to the next person. Raijin glanced back at the three or so people waiting with their goods, and hurried up the ramp.  
  
By the time he had found the room he was fairly sure was Fujin's, it was already locked and the lights were off inside--a sure indication that Fujin didn't want anyone to bother her at the moment. Mildly disheartened, Raijin turned and found another room for himself.  
  
It was going to be a long, _long_ ride down to Centra.


	13. Attack

There was an unwritten rule of the universe in general and life as a Cyborg in particular that if one was to ever take advantage of a peculiar moment of good fortune, they would be hearing about it within the next two and a half days.  
  
Two days had elapsed, and Taiga was beginning to realize that not even mutiny would exempt him from _that_ particular rule.  
  
The patrolman was winding his way through the natural hill valleys, probably having seen them and unaware that Taiga had seen him. Lu was oblivious to the whole affair, and Taiga was happy to keep it that way--he had no way to gauge whether or not she might call for rescue if given the opportunity, and he didn't want to risk it.  
  
They were in the last verges of wasteland as they headed west, and the landscape ahead was beginning to fade into sparse forest and flatlands. The terrain ahead offered minimal cover--but, then again, the ground they were on at the moment didn't offer too much in the way of hiding places, either. There was the occasional small rockface--one of which they were passing at the moment--but none of them were oriented in the right direction to allow for hiding.  
  
Having evaded a confrontation at Hawk's Pass, Taiga was beginning to realize that he wouldn't be so lucky twice in a row. The most he could do was to make sure that when--not if--they ran into each other, he had the upper hand from the start.  
  
"Lu?"  
  
Lu glanced at him. "What?"  
  
"See that rockfall up ahead?"  
  
"It's hard not to."  
  
"Let's rest there for a while."  
  
Lu folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Is this some newfound concern for my wellbeing or are you actually getting worn out, 'borg?"  
  
Taiga sighed. "I _have_ a _name_," he pointed out.  
  
"You have a designation. 'C1128513,' right?" She smiled, but it was a smile laden with antipathy. "I have a head for numbers, you know. And the numbers I remember tell me that there hasn't been a recorded case of a cyborg mutineer staying away from the military's clutches forever. Sooner or later, they all get caught, and I'm guessing that your time is coming right along."  
  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Taiga shot back. "Well, so what if no one's ever done it before? There's a first time for everything."  
  
"There's a ranger a bit behind us who would like to argue differently."  
  
Taiga cursed mildly, glancing back. "How did _you_ know?"  
  
"You think you're the only one with eyes? Ears?" Lu snorted. "Either way, why not? Let's take a break. Maybe we can invite the Esthar Long Patrol over for tea and crackers."  
  
"I knew you'd see it my way," Taiga snarled back, taking a determined step forward. The ground underneath his foot cracked, loosening a few pebbles and dislodging them slightly.  
  
A silence born of mutual annoyance descended then which, by providence or miracle, lasted until they had reached the rocks. Taiga sat down, mood still severely soured as he watched Lu clear away some of the larger stones to make a seat for herself.  
  
"So," he drawled, reaching for a deadpan tone and falling somewhere in the realm of exasperation, "for the sake of argument, let's assume that the ranger catches me and drags me back off to be reconditioned. What do you do then?"  
  
Lu glanced up at the sky. "Go back to a _normal_ life," she said. "A job, a son, an apartment in Esthar."  
  
"A son?"  
  
"Not that it's any of your business. Cyborgs can't _have_ children, can they?"  
  
Taiga didn't respond the the biting remark, so she went on.  
  
"He's in a boarding school," she said. "Some high-level training academy on the coast. He comes home every once in a while for vacations. I hardly ever see him any more."  
  
"Where's his father?"  
  
Lu glared. "_Why_ should I tell _you_?"  
  
Taiga groaned inwardly. "I never knew my parents," he said. "Don't know if I have any siblings, cousins, anything. My unit was my whole family--that and the ICI. You can't imagine how lonely it gets out in the desert sometimes."  
  
"So you talk to your pet computer to keep you awake," Lu filled in. "What do you do, ask it for weapon manuals?"  
  
Taiga took a rock, bouncing it across the ground. "What is it with you, anyway? I just want to have a conversation. If you're right this will all be over in a few minutes, and you'll never have to think about me again. Is it too much to ask--"  
  
"Yes!" Lu shot him an look filled with venom, and Taiga was taken aback despite himself.  
  
"_Why_, in hell?"  
  
Lu tossed her head, looking up at the bright sky. "You really want to know, 'borg? You _really_ want to know?" Her lips tightened, becoming a pale line across her face. "Because I watched the news casts of the Sorceress War. I saw what happened to towns--cities, even--after you went through. 'The New Hope Of The Esthar Forces,' they called you. They called you that because you could soak up damage like no human, because you could go someplace and _kill_ and _kill_ and _kill_ without stopping, without _feeling_. There was a reason you never saw Esthar troops deployed with cyborgs, you know. _I_ found that out the _hard_ way. You want to know why my son is short a father, '_borg_?"  
  
Taiga digested that for a moment. "The Havelburg Massacre."  
  
"When you swept through that town, you didn't bother to distinguish between civilian and hostage. You didn't care what age, what race, what nation--you slaughtered, and that was it. Somewhere in one of those mass graves _you_ didn't bother to dig, my husband is rotting."  
  
Taiga shook his head. "I wasn't even _there_," he said. "I saw it on the news, just like you probably did." He gestured angrily. "You know what I did during the War? I sat on the coast and made sure no one attacked the supply ships coming in from Esthar. Sure, I fought. I have fifty six kills on my record--and I remember _every one_." He was fighting the urge to stand up, to tower over her, and it was only making him angrier. "It's easy for people sitting at home to point fingers and blame others. It's not so easy when you're on the front line, when you have a chip in your brain that shunts orders to you and you can't listen. You don't even _know_ me, and still--"  
  
"Aha!" Lu had ridden the force of his vehemence up, and was now standing above _him_. "You want to peg everything on that ICI you cyborgs get? Is that it?" She took a step closer. "That same thing is inside _your_ skull, _Taiga C1128513_, and it makes you the same as every other cyborg out there. It doesn't _matter_ if you killed my husband, if you were even really there. I know that, given the order, you would have done the exact same thing without ever hesitating or--"  
  
"_DAMMIT!_"  
  
Taiga grabbed the nearest rock and lurched to his feet, looking for some way to vent that wouldn't involve tearing Lu limb from limb. He twisted around and, with all the force he could muster, threw the stone--  
  
**_Target lock._**  
  
--right at the head of the Ranger, who was breasting a hill not too far away.  
  
The aim of the ICI held it true to course, and it hit the man squarely on the forehead. He fell over backward, leaving Lu and Taiga to stare.  
  
"...uh," Taiga said after a moment.  
  
Lu gave him a dark look, which Taiga ignored. Gingerly, he picked his way over to the man's fallen form. Lu followed, making noises of discontent  
  
"I suppose he's dead, isn't he?" Lu asked, leaning against the rockface. "Tell me that was an accident, _'borg_."  
  
"It was an accident," Taiga snapped. "Dammit, I was hoping this _wouldn't_ end in violence, I wasn't going to _initiate_--"  
  
Something caught his eye, and he stopped. The Ranger's shirt had the top button left undone, and the glow of dull metal could be seen against his skin. Taiga pulled the collar down to see exactly what it was--there was a metal plate with rounded edges, a small logo and a tiny red light. It seemed to be grafted directly into the man's skin.  
  
"This guy's been enhanced," Taiga said. _I must be a bigger bounty than I thought...._  
  
"That's nice," Lu snapped back. "So that means that if you _hadn't_ killed him on sight, he might have been able to take you down." She snapped her fingers loudly. "Well,_ damn_."  
  
One of the man's eyes opened, and Taiga jumped back. Dazed, the patrolman groped for his gun, found it, and sat up. His other eye opened, and locked on Taiga.  
  
Less than a second elapsed before he had the gun leveled and ready to fire. "Freeze," he hissed.  
  
_Ah--**  
  
Taiga C1128513,**_**** came an urgent chime. **_Analysis: Threatened._**  
  
_Ah, SHI--**  
  
Directive: Attack.**_


	14. Waiting

"It's late."  
  
Nida rolled his eyes, glancing up toward the observation tower which interrupted an otherwise blank horizon. "For the fifth time, _we know_."  
  
The Hyperion was bouncing on Seifer's shoulder, reflecting an unusual gleam across the nearby benches. "Dammit," he snarled. "Don't they shuttle archaeologists, or something? Shouldn't they _care_ about their schedules?"  
  
"Why?" Nida motioned vaguely in the direction of Centra. "The stuff they're looking for has been there for centuries. Not like a few hours are going to make a huge difference."  
  
Seifer stopped bouncing the Hyperion long enough to give Nida a withering glare.  
  
"Don't tell me, let me guess," Nida said. "Rhetorical question?"  
  
Seifer turned away.  
  
A moment later, he had turned back. "Who runs this place?" he demanded.  
  
"Complaining isn't going to help anything," Nida stated. "It'll get here when it gets here."  
  
Seifer gave him another withering glare. Nida remained largely unaffected.  
  
"We could try going back to Garden, if you wanted," he suggested dryly. "I'm sure they would lend us a transport if we asked them nicely enough."  
  
Seifer turned, taking a few steps toward the ocean and scouring the horizon for signs of the ferry. From somewhere off to the left Squall emerged from the hotel, gave the ocean a cursory glance, and dismissed it. Without a word to anyone, he located a bench, sat down, opened a book, and began to read.  
  
Nida glanced over, and then performed a slight double-take as he noted the title of the book. "_The Annotated History Of The Early Centran Nation-States?_ What the _hell_?"  
  
Seifer paused in his glaring long enough to glance over. He rolled his eyes. "Leonhart has _bad_ taste in reading," he remarked dryly. "It's not exactly a big secret."  
  
Squall gave him a tired glare for about a second before going back to the book.  
  
"That's a college text," Nida said. "Where in _hell_ did you find it _here_?"  
  
"Book store," Squall responded.  
  
"They have a--oh, of _course_." Nida groaned. "Reading material for the archaeologists. Stuff on the Centran nation-states is probably _all_ you can get there."  
  
Seifer narrowed his eyes, staring intently at a distant speck on the horizon. "That's it," he said.  
  
"Great. So it will be here in... what? An hour? Two?"  
  
Seifer frowned, tight-lipped. After a few seconds, he wheeled and walked away.  
  
Nida rolled his eyes. A sidelong glance at Squall determined that the other SeeD wasn't going to be terribly receptive to any overtures of conversation, so he turned his attention to the distant ferry ahead--which was taking its own sweet time in coming.  
  


-  


  
Around noon and on the other side of the ocean, Fujin had finally stopped. And it looked to remain that way for--surprisingly--at least a day.  
  
They had unloaded the ferry at a small costal town bearing the cheerful name of Port Ruin. Trains left and returned every afternoon, speeding out into the barren wilderness of Upper Centra and humming back bearing their loads of coal, stone, steel and artifacts. There were generally three to five passenger cars on any given train--not the height of luxury, but a far sight better than hiking across the continent. Ticket sales for any given trip began about a week in advance and didn't stop until the train arrived at the station, so the first thing that Raijin had expected Fujin to do was book passage on the next possible train out.  
  
Instead, she had gone quietly to the nearest corner market and bought the last week's worth of backlogged newspapers, a small handheld radio with a disproportionately large antenna, and--most inexplicably, after lingering over the stand for some time--a small curio in the form of a tin toy soldier. This latter item was quickly pocketed upon leaving the store, at which time Fujin clipped the radio to her belt, tucked the newspapers under her arm, and went wordlessly to a nearby deli. Raijin, still feeling about ten steps behind her, followed as quickly as he could.  
  
Fujin had already chosen a table and ordered when Raijin joined her, looking dubiously at the stack of thin Centran papers. Snagging one from the stack--with only a tired look from Fujin by way of reproof--he glanced over the front page.  
  
"Oh, hey," he announced after a moment's scrutiny. "Front page, ya know? Right here, down in the corner."  
  
Fujin's eyelid dropped, but not dangerously. "Fugitive," she said quietly. "Can't find him."  
  
Raijin lowered his chin onto his fist. "Huh," he responded. "So how do _we_ find him?"  
  
"I know where he's going."  
  
Raijin nodded. "Are ya _sure_, though?" he asked. "I mean, what if--"  
  
A waiter appeared at his elbow--just as waiters tended to do in the middle of conversations. "Are you ready to order?" he asked.  
  
"He'll have what I'm having," Fujin dictated. The man nodded and walked off, leaving Raijin to wonder--again--at Fujin's odd behaviour.  
  
"What if he _doesn't_ go wherever you said he'll go?" Raijin asked. "How will we find him then?"  
  
Fujin's gaze didn't waver in the slightest. "I'll find him," she assured.  
  
When Raijin was unable to come up with anything to say in response to Fujin's stubbornness, Fujin quietly took the newspaper from him and began to read the small article in the corner of the first page, scouring it carefully as if searching for hidden codes. For several minutes, Raijin had to content himself by reading the contractor ads on the back of the paper, unwilling to take another paper from the stack.  
  
After a moment their lunch arrived, in the form of two bowls of some unidentifiable red liquid (with meat of some sort and thin noodles, apparently) and two matching glasses of water. Raijin looked at his dubiously, poking at the bread that graced the plate on which the bowl sat. "Fuj', what is this?"  
  
Fujin set the newspaper down, picking up her spoon. "Try it," she commanded, transferring a large spoonful into her mouth.  
  
Raijin sniffed it, and wrinkled his nose. Picking up his spoon, he followed Fujin's example--and promptly gagged as the soup seared every centimetre of his mouth. Grabbing at his water, he downed a third of the glass in two enormous gulps. "What _is_ this stuff? It's _hot_, ya--"  
  
"Hot fish soup," Fujin said between spoonfuls. She was steadily transferring one spoonful after another into her mouth, without the slightest sign of adverse effects. She looked up, pausing her spoon halfway from the bowl to her mouth. "Do you like it?"' she challenged.  
  
Raijin thought about attempting another spoonful, but put the thought quickly out of his mind. "How can you eat this stuff?" he asked.  
  
Fujin quietly finished her spoonful. "Doctor says," she whispered, "that the people around me see things differently, and taste things differently, and smell things differently than I do," she said. "They have something that I'll never have, but really I won't know what I'm missing." She took another spoonful of the spicy liquid. "I like this one," she said. "I can taste it so well. But you can taste it better."  
  
Bracing himself, Raijin tried another mouthful. Tears popped up in his eyes as he forced himself to swallow, mouth and throat burning. Fujin smiled softly as he downed another third of his glass. But she said nothing, quietly finishing her soup and offering to pay when the waiter came back around.


	15. Strike!

**_Directive: Attack._**  
  
It always began the same way. The hiss in his collar valve, the flood of red, the world narrowing in to a single point--instinct taking over, fortified by the Tactics bank he was linked into and the training that had been so repetitive, so relentless, that it had become like reflex. The pressure in the back of his head, the tension that built up until the first sudden _strike_--  
  
The process of losing himself was nigh-instantaneous. He didn't quite know _how_ he had managed to disarm the patrolman--just as he didn't quite know _what_ he was doing, and could only notice that by the time he had noted what he should be doing, odds were it had already been done.  
  
The Patrolman was an enhanced soldier--not quite a Cyborg, but possessing many of the same abilities. He was a later generation than Taiga was, as well--it was hard to believe how incredibly _precise_ the man was--every pivot, every swing, every feint was perfectly timed and impeccably delivered. The battle reports that flooded his mind were sent at a frenzied pace--_duck swing block swingfeint step swing duck swing blockfeintswingduckswing_--he had managed to get in close somehow, where the hand-to-hand scuffle was threatening to turn into a grappling match. The gun had some time ago skittered out of the battle somewhere--neither combatant had the time or inclination to look around for it. Lu was also out there, somewhere--watching them. _Irrelevant_.  
  
Nothing was relevant except the automatic defenses and the programmed aggression. Nothing mattered except the easy kill spots he had already identified--neck, temple, heart--and his own vulnerabilities.  
  
In the years Taiga had spent fighting, he had learned something. No matter how much someone had heard about a certain fighting style, there was no way to be ready for it without seeing, up close and personal, what was really going on. The patrolman had probably heard all about the murders, all about the _kills_ Taiga had made--but in the heat of battle, instinct--and not logic--governed what he did and did not do.  
  
The Patrolman was right-handed. His left was arm staying in close to himself to block, tucked at the elbow. It would fly up if Taiga made an attempt at his head, and that was the moment he was looking for.  
  
_--step step block stepblock duckblock feintswing--_  
  
Taiga dropped his left arm, letting the patrolman take the invitation he was programmed to take. He felt the man's _right_ hand close around his throat, clenching and bruising--just as his right hand launched a roundhouse at the _left_ side of his skull.  
  
Like clockwork.  
  
The left arm went up to block and Taiga shifted from a fist to a grip, grabbing his arm and immobilizing it for the second he needed to make his move. The patrolman's hands were engaged, as was Taiga's right--  
  
--but the left was still free.  
  
_One second._  
  
He stepped forward to give added momentum to a punch already fueled by hydraulics--an assault whose force slammed into the man's ribcage and continued through the bone into soft tissue. The man's fists clenched, sending blue-black spots swimming in Taiga's vision--his right hand dropped as the Patrolman's left broke the hold--his right slammed back into his opponent's chest as left went to his own throat--  
  
They fell at the same time.  
  
The patrolman's grip was broken as he hit the ground, and Taiga sucked in air. His opponent was curling up, gasping like a landed fish--Taiga had seen that look on people before this, and he knew what it meant.  
  
The red haze began to clear, and Taiga came back to himself with a sensation not unlike that of a dislocated joint snapping back into place. A second hiss in the collar valve indicated that the battle chemicals were being shunted away.  
  
He felt utterly, physically sick.  
  
If the stomach implant didn't regulate just about everything that went on in his digestive system, he would have retched. As it was he rolled onto his hands and knees and heaved, throat aching from the man's stranglehold and nearly causing him to choke on the dusty air. Vision still blurring slightly with the effect of the synthetic hormones and head still spinning as he regained his oxygen, he barely managed to choke out the command for a one-fifth tranquilize. The chemicals were released dutifully into his bloodstream, but they did little aside from brining his heart rate back down to normal from the acceleration of the fighter's high.  
  
When he didn't think he could stand it any more, he stood up.  
  
Carefully, he walked over to the patrolman and rolled him over onto his back to examine his chest. The man tried weakly to fend him off, but his attempts were so laughably feeble Taiga was able to ignore them without difficulty. Unbuttoning his shirt, he winced at the array of colors his chest was already beginning to turn.  
  
"Dammit."  
  
The patrolman's eyes focused on him, and then unfocused again. He was on his last breaths--that much was obvious.  
  
"Dammit. Dammit, dammit, _dammit, **DAMMIT**_****!!"  
  
Taiga sunk his fist into the ground, lurching to his feet. His hand moved to his forehead, and he swayed.  
  
Lu was silent, staring at the downed patrolman. Taiga turned to her, still unsteady on his own too legs. "Well," he rasped, every word leaving his mouth more bitter than the last. "Say it. You've been waiting for a chance since you met me, so just--just _say it_."  
  
Lu swallowed. "You killed him," she said. She swallowed twice more, and tried to return her shaking voice to its usual timbre of scorn. "I--I said it. All along. You're programmed to kill, and so you--"  
  
_I really just **HATE**--_  
  
"_You_!"  
  
Before he knew it he had pushed Lu up against the rockface, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. Lu was startled--frightened, even--but he disregarded it.  
  
"Look!" he snapped, almost yelling with the conflicting forces chemical, technological and emotional running rampant inside him. "Do you know why in _hell_ you're doing this? Huh?" He gave her a shake for good measure, to ensure that she wouldn't think she knew. "All this _shit_ about killing machines, and how soulless I am. Do you know why?" He didn't give Lu a chance to gather her wits and respond, pressing the few moments of terrified silence he had bought. "You wouldn't talk like this to a tank, or an X-ATM, or a gun. _They're_ killing machines, aren't they? _They're_ soulless! No! You talk like this to me because you _know_ I'm human--a human _like you_, and you know that it will _hurt_. You do this to make me pay for something--make me pay for being something that you don't like, for doing something that _I didn't do_!"  
  
"Ah--" Lu began, shaken. Taiga clenched his hands, probably bruising her arms but not caring at that point.  
  
"I didn't _want _to have to kill Joe Unlucky there--I didn't _want_ that fight to _happen_! But there's this little voice in my head that tells me things, and it said that when someone _puts a gun to my head_ then maybe it's time to _defend_ myself! I--how many kills have I made that I've wanted to make? How many times have I just wanted to run away from a fight? I don't know--I don't _know _any more. But I didn't have a--"  
  
He choked, shuddered, and recovered.  
  
"Do you even know how cyborgs are recruited? _Do_ you? _Not many people do._ An official came to my house when I was three and took me away from my father and mother. They destroyed the records of who they were, they renamed me--_they_ named me Taiga, I don't even _know_ what my parents called me--and they took me to a facility where they trained me to be Adel's soldier. When I was nineteen I was sedated and put into surgery, and they did _this_ to me. I didn't have a _choice_. No one ever asked my permission or my opinion on anything--_I had no choice_! And how much do you know about the Cyborg technology? Well? How much?" He shook her again, the action only making him more angry as opposed to allowing him to vent as he suspected it should have.  
  
"I--not very, ah, not much," Lu stammered, trying to shrink into the rock. Without her perfected appearance of affront, she seemed smaller, less powerful--as if she had been wearing an armor which had been stripped away. Taiga was the power in their interactions, and he was beginning to realize it.  
  
"The technology is integrated," he said, snapping out the syllables so that there was no mistaking them. "That means it's tied into my biological systems. There are wires and chips that go into my heart, my lungs, my stomach--everything that might be a source of weakness is something that they thought they would improve in the cyborg models. Do you have any idea where that leaves me?" His eyes narrowed. "No, I suppose you _don't_. What it means, _Field Officer Lu_, is that they can't take this suit off. _Ever_. Not without killing me. One way or another, I'm stuck a cyborg until the day I die."   
  
With an effort of will, he loosed his hands and stepped away. Forcing a smile over and in spite of everything he felt, he spread his arms.  
  
"But maybe that's all right with you," he said. "After all, once a Cyborg, always a Cyborg--doesn't that sound like something you'd say?" The muscles across his back underwent a small spasm, shaking him. "...maybe it's better that we just all _die_. Maybe it'd be best if we just disappeared, so that the world wouldn't have to deal with our _disgusting, amoral existence_. Maybe good people like you--good, human people like you, with souls like yours and higher senses of justice _like yours_, should take care of it. ...go on. Take that guy's gun and shoot me like he tried to do. I have a human core, after all; I can't take a bullet in the head any more than you can. ..._deactivate_ me. Isn't that what you want to do?"  
  
Lu's horrified gaze traveled from him down to the gun, and her arms went up to hug her chest. She shook her head, unwilling to look up at him. "I--" she started.  
  
Something about the way she was standing and the object of her gaze connected with a fragment of programming in the back of his mind, amplified itself through the adrenaline that hadn't yet faded, resonated in his battle-charged mind--and the ICI blazed to life. **_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Attack._**  
  
_No...!_  
  
Taiga stepped forward, swinging his arm around to catch her in the side with a brutal punch. He could hear bones snapping as she screamed, looking up at him in terrified surprise--  
  
A backhand across the face sent her to the ground, where all she looked at was warm dirt flecked with blood.  
  
_No! No! No!_  
  
Wrenching his eyes closed, he searched for the override command. "...disregard!" he screamed, almost incoherent against the force of the compulsion. Another spasm went through his back, this time traveling down through his hips and into his legs. He fell, landing unevenly on the corpse of the patrolman and staring at Lu through tunneling vision.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Attack._**  
  
"Disregard--" Red hazed his vision, and the servos in his leg fired aimlessly. "Directive. _Directive_!" The ICI didn't respond before he could choke out the rest of his command. "Sleep. _Please_. Directive sleep."  
  
**_Taiga C1128513--_**  
  
Nothing.  
  
Suddenly, there was nothing.


	16. Night Terrors

Night was cold in Centra.  
  
It was a continental phenomenon--whether in the sands of the Kashkabald Desert or on the coasts of the Cape of Good Hope, the night never failed to be chilly. From being a pleasant cool in the summer to a deathly frost in the winter, the only variation was how low the temperature had a mind to drop.  
  
Taiga shifted slightly, feeling the weather settle into his joints and cybernetic enhancements. Something inside was burning away at his energy, heating up his torso and relying on his heart to spread the warm blood throughout his limbs--it was keeping him in the range of tolerably cool, but that was all that could be said for it.  
  
He groaned, and pushed himself to his knees. Flexing stiff muscles, he rocked back and surveyed the area.  
  
The remnants of the earlier fight were still there--the disturbed dust, the gun, the corpse lying nearby. And--Lu.  
  
Catching his breath, he made his way to her side and gently turned her over onto her back. "Directive," he murmured in the night.  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"Analyze subject." _Don't let her be--_  
  
The program kicked in immediately, moving his hands without his own volition. After a moment, the ICI announced its findings.  
  
**_Hali Lu, FO; 82% probability. Biomechanics, Fifth Level. Respiration 15.4 bpm. Pulse 70.3 ppm. Temperature 34.6 degrees celsius._**  
  
Taiga appraised her visually, noting the impressive split lip he had given her. Putting a hand on her side opposite her heart, pressed gingerly. "Directive. Analyze subject region."  
  
Programming clicked in, and his fingers performed an examination he didn't have the skill to do. **_Three lateral fractures along the ribcage,_** the ICI informed him. **_One compound fracture on the second lateral._**  
  
"How do I fix this?" he asked her, pensive. "I need to get you to a hospital. But the moment I show my face, it'll be over for me. You're so damn sure of these ethical problems. Why don't _you_ tell _me_?"  
  
He sat back, thinking. A paramagical dressing might soak through the skin and affect the bone--if he could find the components and mix one up. He could bind it up using the cloth the Patrolman had been wearing--but it was unlikely he would be able to really immobilize it, especially given that he had to keep moving and was unwilling to simply leave Lu behind. By the time he was in a position to get her any sort of care--  
  
He sighed heavily. Soldiers like himself were issued small medical packs and data on how to use them, but he hadn't kept track of his. As far as he knew, it was somewhere in the Kashkabald Desert.  
  
"Well," he said, forcing himself to go through everything logically. "Let's think about this. You got me into this mess, why don't you tell me how to get out? Query."  
  
**_Query accepted._**  
  
"Patient. Rib fractures. Recommended procedure?"  
  
**_Patient should be brought to nearest medical facility._**  
  
"Option unavailable."  
  
**_Immobilize patient. Use available resources to reduce swelling in region of injury. Bind injury as well as circumstances permit._**  
  
"Nothing I didn't already know." He groaned, massaging his forehead. "Directive."  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"Cross-reference local indigenous fauna with any mention of healing properties, disregarding drawn paramagical spells. Practical application only."  
  
**_Fastitocalon species. Meat has a healing effect on 23% of tested individuals when ingested. Jelleye. Secretes a clear substance popularly referred to as "healing water" from a gland within the central joint. Acts as a localized anesthetic and metabolic accelerator when applied topically. Acts as an anesthetic and soporific when ingested. Refinement yields--_**  
  
"That's enough. Thanks. ...cancel directive." Taiga stood, glancing down at Lu. "_Don't_ go anywhere, he admonished wryly. "I have to go find a Jelleye or three."  
  
-  
  
After a nearly fruitless scour of the wasteland, Taiga came back to the battlefield with the oozing central joints of four juvenile Jelleyes held in his hands. They were small--hardly larger than apples--but luck hadn't been on his side in the hunt. It seemed that Jelleyes weren't the most nocturnal of species.  
  
He wasn't exactly sure how to go about doing things, so he shrugged it off and did his best to improvise. And first was the most unpleasant task--taking the patrolman's shirt from him.  
  
_Robbing the dead._  
  
If there was one thing he had retained from Basic Training, it was to disregard death. Death was everywhere, in a war. Death was his profession. It didn't matter how many corpses piled up around you--attend to the enemy, attend to the wounded, and if need be leave the fallen where they fell. Speed was the forte of the cyborg corps. Efficiency was their trademark. It was the cyborg battles where everyone was left unburied--the victors simply didn't care enough to take the time.  
  
Still, it had been a long time since the war. And Taiga had never found the comfort in the callousness that some of his compatriots had.  
  
He didn't wince when he took the man's shirt, exposing the fatal wound.  
  
He did wince when he undid Lu's, exposing the similar mark on her side.  
  
He had no idea what to do, aside from "apply the substance topically." He cracked open one of the Jelleye joints, looking distastefully at the mucous substance. Digging his fingers into it, he withdrew what seemed to be a clear, thing membrane.  
  
"The things we do for medicine," he muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose at the sharp astringent smell. "Fungus, leeches, and now this."  
  
Placing the membrane on Lu's side, he spread it carefully over the injured area. He was careful--he didn't have much experience working on non-cybernetic humans, and he had less of an idea than he'd like to of how fragile they were. He didn't want to hurt her more severely while trying to undo the damage he had already done.  
  
The goo was beginning to absorb into her skin, which surprised him somewhat. He continued to apply it, noting with relief that the bruising was beginning to lose its color. It was a subtle change--he might as well have been imagining it--but on this point, at least, he trusted his enhanced mental faculties to recognize what was going on.  
  
He worked methodically, covering the injury and the surrounding skin with the healing water until he couldn't scrape any more from the joint. He discarded the shell, cracking open another one.  
  
"I'll save two," he said to Lu, smiling crookedly. "You can tell me how it tastes next time you need a soporific. And I might have to bind you up again, too."  
  
Lu, not surprisingly, said nothing to the information.  
  
Taiga's smile faded. "ICI," he said. "...directive."  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"Tell me a story?"  
  
There was a moment's pause. **_Directive not recognized._**  
  
"Access the historical accounts of... something," he said. "The most recent Sorceress War. Recount the news articles from the Esthar Broadcast News Center from its reactivation when the Lunar Base came down."  
  
There was another moment's hesitation. **_"The Sky Is Falling!"_** it announced, without any tone. **_"Kirin Ru, EBNC. Seventeen years of security have come tumbling down today, as Sorceress Adel's tomb came unexpectedly into contact with a Lunar Cry...."_**  
  
Taiga listened with half an ear to the canned report, finding thin comfort in the words as they were deposited into his brain. His mind was filled with someone else's words and he could feel Lu breathing beneath his fingers--but, even so, the world seemed strangely empty. He felt oddly alone.  
  
He spread the healing water over Lu's side, ripped up the Patrolman's shirt to make wide bandages, and prayed to gods he didn't even believe in that she wouldn't die.


	17. Chasing

It was just before dawn, and the wind was picking up dust and blowing across the landscape in the distance. There was only a brownish transition where the sky met the ground on the horizon. Fujin was an emblem of iron self-control as she watched the _Hermes Rail Line_ approach from the distance, driving dust before it. It was Upper Centra's pride and joy--the fastest transcontinental railroad in the world. It was probably the one modern wonder Centra could boast of, and the rest of the world didn't care.  
  
Moving in a wide curve from Port Ruin to Point Ferry on the lower edge of the continent, it was really two tracks running parallel. It took almost of three days to make it there. The departure times were staggered so that the two trains lest within a day of each other--originally three rail lines had been planned, so that one could leave each day for three days, but the developing firm had given up with only a few kilometers of track on the third. Soon the disused track had been cannibalized for some other Centran endeavor, and only the two complete tracks were ever used.  
  
Fujin didn't particularly like the wait, but she had to admit that it was worth it. Any other mode of transportation readily available here might take weeks to get her where she needed to go--a day of waiting to take a three-day trip on the _Hermes_ was by far the better option.  
  
Raijin had disappeared--probably still smarting over the soup ordeal and not particularly interested in finding out what further erratic behaviour Fujin had up her sleeve. Fujin didn't mind terribly--as long as he wasn't bothering her, she didn't really care if he thought she was losing her mind.  
  
Her recently-purchased radio was by her side, tuned to the local news broadcasts which seemed to be becoming less helpful by the moment. She didn't fidget because she knew it wouldn't help, and if it didn't help there was no point in wasting energy on it. Not listening to the news, not bother to move a muscle, all she could really do was think.  
  
She had been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days.  
  
For the moment, however, she wasn't thinking about where she was going, or where she had been. She was thinking about _why_ the hell she was out there, chasing after shadows--and how, against all odds, there was a possibility (which she had tried to ignore) that Raijin might be _right_.  
  
She hated it when Raijin was right.  
  
Fujin prided herself on a number of things. One of them was that she wasn't given to flights of fancy--that she didn't _hope_ more than she _reasoned_. She didn't react to things, not like other people did--she had gone through defections, revolutions, and a Lunar Cry without batting an eyelid. And yet....  
  
And yet, one vague news report had sent her into a fainting spell. A few words of description had rousted her out of Balamb, away from the Posse, and was taking her halfway across the globe. She couldn't help but feel that it was being very, very silly of her.  
  
_And yet_, she couldn't seem to be ashamed.  
  
She _recognized_ what Raijin had been trying to point out to her--she _knew_ that this was a bad idea, and likely to end in her being disappointed. But she didn't care. She didn't even hesitate to counter that with some other piece of logic, some explanation, _something_--she was defending her actions to herself, going against the years of self-imposed discipline that defined who she was.  
  
For a moment, she wondered if this was how Seifer had felt, chasing after his dream.  
  
She held that thought until the _Hermes_ came rolling in.  
  


-  


  
Boarding was an orderly process. Raijin somehow managed not to be late, securing a seat between Fujin and the window. He seemed more subdued than usual, staring out the window at Port Ruin as a ferry slowly docked on the other side of town. He didn't even try to make conversation.  
  
Which was fine with Fujin. She still had a lot of puzzling things out to do, and only three days in which to do it. The longer Raijin kept quiet, the less time she would have to spend fending off his inquiries and concerned suggestions.  
  
It was rare that a _Hermes_ was ever packed full, or so she had heard. And today it seemed abnormally empty, with a sparse scattering of people in the cushioned seats. Maybe it was just another indications that they were fast approaching the heart of nowhere.  
  
The _Hermes_ had finished boarding its few passengers, and was rumbling to life when Raijin hurriedly opened the window, stuck his head out, and began hollering and waving at the top of his lungs. Fujin jumped, catapulted into sudden annoyance by the unexpected outburst. The station was beginning to slide away, and her view of the outside was considerably hampered by Raijin's bulk. The rhythmic pounding of the engine grew faster and faster as they picked up speed, and soon any opportunity for he to figure out what was going on had past.  
  
At last Raijin pulled himself back inside the cabin, grinning excitedly. "WHAT?" Fujin demanded, coming perilously close to a snarl.  
  
"You wouldn't _believe_ this!" he exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. "That was _Seifer_ and _Squall_ back there, ya know?"  
  


-  


  
Seifer was livid when the _Hermes_ slid out of Port Ruin, speeding away at a rate no car or chocobo could match. He stood frozen in the main train station, eyes fixed on the offending vehicle as it retreated swiftly. He looked as though he were about to conjure up a Limit Break by sheer force of rage.  
  
Nida and Squall decided it was the wisest course of action for the moment not to say a thing.  
  
Seifer spun on his heel, facing the board that held departure and arrival times for the train network. After a cursory inspection he identified what train it had been and when the next one was coming, and snarled a bit to himself. Turning, he singled out Squall as the nearest person he could snap at.  
  
"Tomorrow," he snapped. "We're getting on that damn _Hermes_ thing, and we're going wherever the _hell_ they go," he said. "We _are_ catching up to them, _Garden_ be _damned_."  
  
Having said his piece, he stormed off.  
  
The last leg of the chase had begun.


	18. Confessions

Taiga had made it almost thirty kilometers when Lu began to stir in his arms.  
  
Wary of what response his position might elicit and concerned about causing her any discomfort, Taiga placed her gently on the ground with her back against a rock. She moaned as she came around, head lolling back and forth as she fought her way to consciousness.  
  
When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Taiga. She caught her breath sharply, wincing at the pain in her ribs, and Taiga raised both hands in a gesture of harmlessness.  
  
"I'm sorry," he told her, hoping that his voice and eyes would convey his sincerity. "I am so, so sorry."  
  
Lu looked down, touching the bandages gingerly. She was silent for what seemed to be a long, long time. "...no," she responded, at last. "...I should be sorry. I shouldn't have said--"  
  
Taiga shook his head. "It's not your fault," he said simply.  
  
She didn't respond.  
  
"I know what you think. You probably think you shouldn't provoke me like that, that it's really just aking for trouble, but--" He took a deep breath. "...we're not like this, you know," he said quietly. "Cyborgs, I mean. We're not programmed to consider everything a threat, to attack--to _kill_ even if there are other options available."  
  
Lu looked at him, eyes strangely empty. "What?"  
  
Taiga picked a couple of rocks from the ground, dropping them from one hand into the other. "We have hierarchical programming. When one option is rendered unavailable, we progress on to the next--unless violence is immediately necessary. We're not programmed to be like this."  
  
Lu shook her head. "I still don't understand."  
  
Taiga's hand clenched, a sharply mechanical motion that crushed one of the weaker rocks into bits. "I'm malfunctioning," he explained.  
  
Lu didn't say a word.  
  
"...we're programmed so that we'd malfunction this way. They thought that, in a war situation, it would be better for the troops to start finding everything a threat than finding nothing a threat. So we're programmed so that, in the event of a malfunction, it's the nonviolent subroutines that go out first. That's why I can't stop myself. ...why I can't stop killing."  
  
Lu seemed surprised by that, but only barely. "...how?" she asked.  
  
"Reconditioning." He made a dry little chuckle in the back of his throat. "When they recondition you, it isn't a psychological thing. They just wipe your programming and reinstall it. They reason that, no matter how discontent a soldier is, the programming will be too powerful for them to disregard. But the programming begins to work its way down into your brain, the longer you have it--it's impossible to get rid of it all. That's why problems start occurring--why _malfunctions_ occur. Because there's no way to regulate it once it's _that_ ingrained." He shook his head. "It--it isn't a _choice_. It's a compulsion that overrides all reason. It's not easy to fight it--it gives you some of the most godawful headaches, and then there's that _damn_ ICI--that's why no one tries, more or less. That's why I'm almost the only deserter in the whole Corps. Certainly the only one who's done it more than once."  
  
"Why?" Lu looked at him, trying to isolate something. "Why is it only you?"  
  
The dry chuckle returned. "I'm different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I... just am." Taiga shook his head. "I'm out here for a reason. There's something I'm looking for, and if I find it--well, then I'll tell you."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Just a place." He looked out, toward the horizon. "A place out in the wilderness. Someplace where w--where I could be alone."  
  
Lu watched him carefully. "You weren't going to say 'I' there, were you?"  
  
Taiga sighed. "It's a long story," he said. "And I don't feel up to telling it."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
He shook his head. "It's just _hard_," he said. "_You_ want to talk about your dead husband?"  
  
Lu frowned sharply at that. "Cyborgs _can't_ marry," she said.  
  
Taiga shot her a tired look, tinged with exasperation. "Think _I_ don't know that?" he demanded. "Or maybe you think we just can't be close to _anyone,_ denied that institutional pleasure?"  
  
Lu was about to snap something back at him, and then took a deep breath--wincing--and thought better of it. "...sorry," she said--not sounding particularly sorry, but also not sounding as if she was being condescending or false. "So, was it... someone from your unit?"  
  
Taiga grimaced, and looked away. "...yeah," he said quietly, declining to look in her eyes. "Yeah, the unit. You remember back at Hawk's Pass?"  
  
Lu nodded. "Yeah."  
  
"I used the name Seiken C4452610. He was... a friend of mine."  
  
"And you ran away together?"  
  
"Deserted. Took our chances and ran with them. _Stole_ ourselves." He glanced up. "Here's a bit of trivia for you," he said, voice gaining cynicism with each word. "Did you know that if you were to kidnap a cyborg, you could be charged with theft of government property?"  
  
Lu digested that. "What?"  
  
"Stupid, isn't it? Who would try to _kidnap_ a _cyborg_?" Taiga snorted. "But it's down in the lawbooks. See, a cyborg isn't just a person. We're also some expensive weaponry, microprocessors, sensors, data relays... really quite an impressive ensemble. If the general populace knew how much Adel spent on us, they'd turn blue in the face."  
  
Lu didn't say a thing.  
  
"Seiken and I... that was the first time I deserted. We got a fair ways out before they caught us." He swallowed. "Did some disreputable things to get by." He closed his eyes. "...killed a few people, even. And, you know... I still have nightmares, sometimes."  
  
Lu watched him, making an effort to accept the story. "So why do you want to come back out here?"  
  
Taiga was silent.  
  
Lu pursed her lips. "You weren't lying to me, were you?"  
  
Taiga looked at her, quietly wounded. "Nothing I said was a lie."  
  
"Then--"  
  
"I just don't want to talk about it." He looked away. "It doesn't matter, anyway. Not to anyone but me."  
  
And, barely moving his lips, he appended the words _Not anymore_ so softly that Lu couldn't hear.


	19. Within Sight

Rain.  
  
Rain slanted down from the sky in sheets, silver curtains in the glow of the landbound station lights. The steady sound of the impact of millions of droplets was so loud that it seemed all-encompassing, omnipresent, deafening--only to be dwarfed when thunder rang out, breaking the darkness with a report so sharp and loud it seemed to have come from the cannon that would split the world apart. It was, in point of fact, an exceedingly dark and stormy night.  
  
The narrow channel frothed and churned in the downpour, and the ferry that stood, moored securely to the bank, rose and fell as the waves slapped against its raised hull. The woman who captained it, a sturdily-built type with all the airs of a Centran sea captain, had shaken her head sadly and pronounced it too dangerous to take down to Lower Centra until the storms had passed. Which, in the grand tradition of Centran rains, could mean anything from four hours to three days. Neither extreme appealed to Fujin.  
  
She had never liked rain. She had usually not fostered any particular feelings of dislike toward it, but times could and did change one's perception of things. At the moment she would have found it preferable that the rains stayed away from the continent, leaving every living thing to wither and die--as long as it didn't mean another goddamned _delay_.  
  
Raijin was having the time of his life--which only made her more disgruntled. He was out there, cavorting in the heavier rain than Balamb ever got to see, working out his stored-up energy. He had spent three days on the train along with her, being ever-careful (but sometimes not careful _enough_) not to irritate her further than his presence already did.  
  
Raijin had muttered something about the buzz one could get from a Thundaga and wondered aloud how it would feel to be struck by "Lightnin', real _lightnin_', ya know?" Fujin had debated a moment whether or not to inform him of the not-so-subtle difference between natural lightning and paramagical Thunder, but had decided in the end to let him be as much of an idiot as he wanted to be. She stayed in the shelter of the station awning, watching him with a morbid fascination and pondering what she would do if he really _did_ manage to get himself struck. It was lucky that he didn't have a solid metal quarterstaff, that was all _she_ knew--otherwise she would probably be scraping him off the rocks by now.  
  
The dark humor of her thoughts did nothing for her mood. Raijin didn't matter--not really. He was human--something she could either ignore or defeat. The weather, though....  
  
She had never been entirely comfortable with the weather.It was something she couldn't predict or control--it was something that, in instances like these, could control _her_. She didn't enjoy being controlled. She wanted to exercise her own free will--she didn't want anything to stand in her way. If she had been a bit more hotheaded, a bit less aware of her own limitations or a bit more impatient, she would have tried to swim the channel herself--come hell or, what was imminently probable, high water.  
  
She sat, every muscle tense with the quiet exertion of not moving. She could well imagine the sound of the _Hermes_ approaching, just shy of a day behind them--and she wanted to get away from it. She wanted to put distance between them, to shed the pursuit. She didn't _want_ them around, couldn't they understand that? She wanted to do this on her own, it was no one's business but hers--  
  
And she couldn't help but realize the irony of the situation. Here she was in the middle, the hunter being hunted, the pursuer being pursued--and both ends of the chase were zeroing in on her, one far too quickly, one not quickly enough.  
  
She didn't know what sort of spectacle would take place upon their convergence, but she didn't think it would be too pleasant.  
  
Unconsciously, she fingered the rope that kept her shuriken secure on her back. Whatever happened, she vowed, she wouldn't let herself lose control of it all. This was the moment she had been waiting for forever--and it _would_ be hers, no matter what arguments or bloodshed she had to go through to ensure that.  
  
The rain continued to fall.  
  


-  


  
Several kilometers to the south and a few to the east, the rain existed only as a starless blur on the horizon, lit occasionally by sporadic flashes of lightning. It was dry where Taiga was--dry and cold. Lu was shivering inside her loose clothing, and Taiga really would have offered her a coat if he could--however, he had ceased to need cloth clothing a long time ago. The implants regulated his body heat, and--although he had been cold before, even uncomfortably so--the amount of body heat that escaped from the suit without being absorbed and recycled would hardly be enough to warm a jacket enough to do him any good.  
  
He had briefly raised the question of building a fire, but Lu's response had been nothing more than an irritable "Out of _what_?" There was little more than scrub in the way of vegetation, and most of it seemed to be of the type that would be hard to coax a flame out of. And so Lu had decided just to keep moving, despite how exhausted she was liable to be by the time morning came around.  
  
She had, at least, been making what appeared to be a concerted effort to transform herself into someone with whom it was possible to live with. And Taiga had been helping out in the only way he knew how--by staying quietly unobtrusive, and doing nothing to provoke her. It had been a very silent trip for both of them.  
  
Lu didn't ask him where they were going any more. Nor did she make any demands upon him to take her back to an Estharan facility. She simply walked with him, a metre or two apart, wincing occasionally as she held her healing sides. She had yet to make any overture that could really be termed friendly, but at least it seemed as though the hostile ones were curbed for good.  
  
A steady supply of Jelleye joints seemed to be undoing most of the damage he had done to her, and for that he was glad. The sporadic chattering of his ICI had grown no more infrequent, and it was a bizarre form of relief that there was another breathing human being out here in the wilderness with him.  
  
The days that had passed since Lu's injury felt, somehow, like the easiest days he had gone though since his defection.  
  
Aside from a touch of fatigue and, paradoxically, an edge of homesickness--for familiar faces, familiar sights--Taiga was in relatively high spirits as they travelled. And it helped a lot that they were beginning to get into territory he remembered--the rocks were beginning to thin out, the soil beginning to darken. Once in a while he would see a lone stand of trees off in the distance, or to his left or right--they were beginning to head into the narrow strip of fertile country he had been aiming for. He could imagine that the line of the horizon was beginning to break into the shapes and patterns that he recognized. He didn't have far to go, he was sure....  
  
_Soon_, he kept repeating to himself. _Soon. It's not far now. Not far now. Not any more..._.


	20. Rendezvous

If it was morning when the _Hermes_ rolled into the station, no one aboard it could tell. The cloud cover was so thick that the only light visible was what weakly filtered through it against all odds, and the buzzing electric lighting of the buildings around. The rain was still coming down, and--although it had lightened a bit from the previous night--it was still churning up whitecaps in the harbor and collecting in muddy pools on the ground.  
  
They disembarked in silence. The train station had a narrow awning, and the passengers made a pitiful huddle under it as they looked around for the hotel. The wind would slant unpredictably, and at times it would drive the rain into the scant cover mercilessly.  
  
As the last few people stepped off, Seifer glanced around defiantly. Then he stepped out into the storm.  
  
Acting perhaps on instinct he chose a path away from the hotel, heading instead out of the town. Squall followed automatically and, with a heavy sigh, Nida trailed after.  
  
Seifer didn't seem to know where he was going, but nor did he seem inclined to stop. They went along the edge or the river for some ways before turning and making a sharp angle back inland, until the ground began to roll slightly. From time to time Seifer would look around as if looking for something specific--not that it was likely he had ever been to this part of Centra before, and not that one could realistically see anything well enough to recognize it in the downpour. A few times they veered toward a dark shape looming in the distance, only to turn away when, upon inspection, it turned out to be a few large rocks or an abrupt ridge.  
  
Squall was about to ask what Seifer was doing--besides getting them lost--when Seifer stopped, squinting toward a hill whose hazy shape could barely be distinguished from the overall gloom. Squall and Nida ground to a halt behind him, mostly out of a lack of anything else to do.  
  
Out of the rain, there came a faint, dangerous whistle.  
  
Seifer had heard that noise far too often to have to guess what it was. He flinched back--and the shuriken hissed through the air just a few centimetres in front of his face. In another instant, it was gone, back into the rain-choked distance.  
  
Squall had already drawn his gunblade and Nida his katana, and Seifer found his hand on the Hyperion's hilt before his reasoning caught up with his instincts and stopped him. There was a faint yelling from over the crest of the hill--one that, despite the constant patter of the rain, was clearly identifiable as Raijin. Fujin's attack didn't seem to be in immediate danger of repetition, and Seifer turned to Squall. "What do you think you're doing?" he snarled. "Going to come all the way out here to attack them?"  
  
Squall dropped the point of his gunblade irritably. "She attacked first," he coldly responded.  
  
Seifer shook his head, sending water droplets flying off the tips of his hair. Then he took his hand off Hyperion, and turned to walk toward the hill.  
  
Fujin's form was only barely distinguishable from the rain at this distance, as she stood atop the hill with her shuriken raised. Raijin was coming up behind her, a large, indefinite form in the rain. From what Seifer could see, he didn't have his quarterstaff out.  
  
Seifer cast a sidelong glance at Squall. "Stay out of this," he snapped, and stepped forward purposefully.  
  
"STOP," Fujin snapped. Her voice echoed slightly, blending with the storm.  
  
Seifer stopped. "What's goin' on?" he called to her.  
  
"_TURN BACK._" Fujin sounded angry--angry and imperious.  
  
Seifer planted a hand on his hip. "I came all the way out here to find you," he said. "Want to tell me why I had to?"  
  
"UNNECESSARY." She gestured with the shuriken. "TURN BACK."  
  
Seifer scowled. Just then Fujin turned to Raijin--who was apparently arguing with her, making abrupt gestures. From where they were standing, Raijin's voice was totally inaudible.  
  
After a minute or so, Raijin shook his head and slumped slightly in defeat. He turned to them, approaching. Fujin stood her ground, shuriken--as ever--at the ready.  
  
_She's sending over a delegation_, Seifer thought wryly. _Nice to know we're still friends_.  
  
Raijin finally drew up, looking like nothing so much as a soaked puppy. He shrugged as soon as he came to within a comfortable speaking range. "She doesn't want us here, ya know?"  
  
Seifer growled a bit at that. "I could guess," he said. "Care to tell us why?"  
  
"That's the thing, ya know?" Raijin said. "I dunno. She won't say anything, except that she's chasin' this guy...." he trailed off nervously. "...this guy who's been in the papers a lot. ...ya know." He fidgeted for a moment. "But she's been actin' _really_ weird, ya--"  
  
Seifer cut him off. "What guy?" he asked.  
  
"Some Estharan fugitive. I dunno much 'bout 'im, but she want to get 'im before Esthar does, an'--"  
  
"But _why_?"  
  
Raijin looked decidedly uncomfortable. "...dunno," he said.  
  
"You're lying," a third voice broke in.  
  
Both Raijin and Seifer turned to look at Nida. The SeeD gestured pointedly with one hand.  
  
"Not only that, but you're being _really_ obvious about it," he continued. "And we've spent the past week or whatever running around chasing you two down, and not having much fun while we were. So it would be _really_ nice if you could just tell us what's going on, so we can wrap this mess up and get back to Garden. Think you could do that?"  
  
Seifer made a mental note to thank Nida later, assuming he felt gracious at the time.  
  
Raijin took a moment to think about that, then slumped his head in defeat. "...Fuj' used to live out here," he said quietly. "Really long time ago. She doesn't like to talk 'bout it... this was before she came to Garden, ya know, and I didn't know her then... she got taken away from the place after some bad thing happened, and they never let her go back. An' now... well, she's goin' back, ya know?"  
  
"And what does this have to do with this fugitive?" Seifer asked.  
  
Raijin shook his head. "Somethin' about what he's wanted for, ya know? It reminds her."  
  
Seifer decided that, with Fujin, that was about as concrete an answer as he was likely to get. "And what is this about wanting to go it alone?" he asked.  
  
"She doesn't think it's any of our business, ya know?" Raijin gestured. "I guess since it happened before we knew 'er, she doesn't want us in it."  
  
Seifer growled. "What happened to the _posse_?"  
  
Raijin shrugged.  
  
Seifer's hand returned to the hilt of the Hyperion, and he tapped it thoughtfully. "Think she's actually goin' to fight us over it?"  
  
Raijin shook his head. "Naw," he said. "I think she just wanted to scare ya off, ya know? I don't think--well, she wouldn't _really_--well--"  
  
Seifer didn't notice, but some ways behind him Squall had opened his mouth to object to the prospect of continuing the chase. Nida, however, swiftly interposed himself, catching Squall by the elbow and dragging him off some ways. Seifer remained oblivious to the proceedings.  
  
"Not that I care about my honor guard," he made a vague gesture toward where he assumed Squall and Nida were, "but _I'm_ going to come with you from here on out," Seifer stated flatly. "Because that's what _friends_ would do, and you can tell her that. And if she _is_ going to fight me over this...." he trailed off, searching for a suitable response. "...I don't intend to lose."  
  
Raijin nodded. "She won't like it, ya know," he advised.  
  
"It's Fujin. She'll get over it."  
  
"Yeah, but--" Raijin fidgeted for a moment, and then gave up. "...Yeah. I'll tell her. But she won't like it, ya know?"  
  
Seifer stepped past him. "Hell. I'll tell her myself. Let's go."  
  


-  


  
Squall turned to glare at Nida as he was dragged off. It was hard to keep up a semblance of dignity in this rain, with water weighing everything down and chilling him to the bone--his hair was plastered to his head, and his jacket's fur edging looked as if it had recently drowned. He was well aware that, in a word, his appearance could probably best be descried as "pathetic." So, in order to convey any weight at all, he hardened his glare and hoped that implication would take care of the rest.  
  
"If I know anything about Seifer, he's going to follow Fujin to the bitter end," Nida said. "And I don't think you're going to knock that out of him by arguing."  
  
Squall shook his head. "We don't have time for this--"  
  
"We have all the time in the world." Nida gestured. "What? It's not like the universe will end if we don't get Seifer back to Garden by Winter Break. Anyway...." He cast a covert glance toward Seifer and Raijin. "I think I'm almost as curious as Seifer is. I want to see what's going on, too."  
  
Squall scowled.  
  
Nida shrugged. "Look, you're in command of this mission. If you order me to fight Seifer and drag him back to Garden, I will." He shrugged again, endeavoring to remain absolutely deadpan. "I think I have enough Sleep spells to keep him sedated for the entire trip back to Garden, and if that falls through I'm _sure_ they sell rope somewhere on the way. He can't be _too_ heavy; if we take it in short stages, we could probably manage to carry him all the way back. Of course, if he's awake and struggling that would be significantly more difficult--"  
  
Squall's hand had made the move to his forehead somewhere around the "rope" line, and it showed no signs of moving away. "...fine," he snapped. "We don't have a choice. We'll follow Fujin."  
  
Nida nodded. "If it helps any, I think she's probably on our side," he pointed out. "Just convince her to lob a few more shurikens at Seifer. I'm sure he'll come around... sooner or later."


	21. Concessions

Negotiations did not come easily to Seifer Almasy. Nor did compromises. Nor did concessions--but when dealing with Fujin, it generally became apparent that, at times, each might be necessary.  
  
Seifer had never figured out exactly what motivated Fujin, and he harbored no illusions of finding out anytime soon. Fujin was one of those people whom it was best not to question. If she decided to help you, you accepted it; if she decided to ignore you, you left her alone; if she expressed discontentment with you you got out of her way. She didn't offer explanations because she didn't need to. Her reasons were her own, and trying to figure them out would, more than likely, put you on her bad side. He had never confronted her before; should it come down to a clash of wills he had a realistic idea of who would win--no one.  
  
But she had been part of the posse for years, now--through the some of the worst times in Seifer's life. She hadn't been willing to abandon the posse in the face of difficulty or danger or doubt--and now she had effectively told them all to take a flying leap because of some radio clip that _reminded_ her of something.  
  
Seifer could put up with a lot from Fujin. But there came a point where he felt the need to draw the line, and she had stepped across it, this time.  
  
Fujin didn't seem too intent on disemboweling him as he hame up the hill, which was a good thing. After the first time, dodging shurikens seemed like it might become rather aggravating. She didn't look too terribly interested in talking with him, either, but he didn't care so much about that.  
  
A respectable distance from her, he stopped. "What's up?" he asked, well aware that it would probably not get him the answers he wanted.  
  
"IRRELEVANT." Fujin shook her head. "LEAVE."  
  
"Ain't gonna happen." Seifer shook his head. "Look, you _know_ me. And you know I'm gonna follow you to the end of the world if I need to. So what's going on?"  
  
Fujin glared. A moment of silent standoff passed. "Not your business," she hissed, so softly that it was almost lost in the storm. "_Mine_."  
  
"Since when does the Posse have secrets?" Seifer was caught between being hurt and annoyed, and leaning toward annoyed.  
  
"Always."  
  
Seifer was halfway to his next retort before that one caught up with him.  
  
"Not your business," Fujin continued. "Leave."  
  
Seifer blinked rain out of his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Or _what_?" he demanded. "I'm coming with you whether you like it or not. You want to fight me over it, I'll fight. You win--and I'm _not_ letting you--I'll follow you from a safe distance. You're not going to get rid of me." _Dammit, I'm your **friend**, Fujin, whether or not you damn well **like** it._  
  
Another moment of standoff passed, and Seifer could almost hear the tension in the air. Or maybe it was just the blood pounding past his ears--he wasn't quite sure.  
  
Then Fujin did something he would never have expected.  
  
Relaxing her grip on the shuriken so that it almost fell from her fingers, she dropped her eye to stare at the muddy pools by her feet. Another moment of silence passed.  
  
"Please," she breathed. "Don't want you here."  
  
It took Seifer what seemed like a full minute to realize that he had _won_.  
  
It took him what seemed like another to gather his wits enough to respond.  
  
"Well, I _am_ here," he stated, as cooly as he could. Fujin looked _tired_--worn out, worn down. It was oddly concerning. "And I'm not going back. ...where are you going, anyway?"  
  
"Centra."  
  
"We're _in_ Centra."  
  
Fujin gestured with her shuriken. "Lower Centra."  
  
"Why?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"So I guess I'll find out when _we_ get there, then."  
  
She looked up for long enough to give him a halfhearted glare, then tucked the shuriken up onto her back. Then she walked deliberately past him, down the hill and in the direction the town presumably lay in.  
  
Seifer followed her, saying nothing. He had won the argument, and he wasn't going to abuse the privilege.  
  
He wasn't aware of whether or not they managed to pick up Squall, Nida and Raijin on the way back. He didn't care terribly much, really. Raijin always seemed to find his way back to Fujin, and he rather relished the thought of leaving the SeeDs standing out in the rain until they realized he wasn't coming back for them.  
  
There was a faint, light haze on the horizon. It seemed like the rain might be moving on, and he wished it godspeed.


	22. Remembrance

It was, as the ICI informed him coldly upon request, 7:13 AM local time when Taiga crested the last hill of his pilgrimage.  
  
On the west side of the hill the land sloped down dramatically, forming a kind of quarter-basin still caught in shadow as the sun rose slowly behind them. Pale green grass covered the landscape, and small trees stood here and there. There was a line of them only a few minutes' jog away, a shallow curve that seemed to reflect the line of the hill.  
  
Cradled at the bottom of the quarter-basin was a small house of red claybrick and white-painted wood panelling, surrounded by a sadly neglected picket fence. A tiny garden was overgrown and choked with weeds, although the stones that marked it off were still visible. A shallow dip in the backyard--like a crater, but less severe--suggested that once, someone had planned a pond. It was an odd sight; as if this little cottage had been dropped here in the middle of the wilderness on the whim of some god, and then forgotten.  
  
Lu, standing beside Taiga, stared. "What--" she began. "A house? _Here_?"  
  
"It belonged to people who wanted to forget the world," Taiga said. "People who wanted a nice, remote place where they could--could watch the world go by." His voice caught on the last works, and he shook himself off. In another instant he had regained--or forced--a smile, and he motioned down the hill. "Come on!" he said. "Let's--let's go inside."  
  
And he took off, walking rapidly toward the house. Lu frowned--there was something odd in Taiga's demeanor, from what she could tell. He wasn't nearly as eager to get into the house as he _pretended_ to be, but he was hurrying as if he was--he wasn't nearly as happy to be here as he let on, but he didn't want to admit any unease or sadness. She didn't quite trust it.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she followed him down. He had gone around to the front of the house by the time she got to the fence, and she sighed. Making her way gingerly across the unkept grounds, she pushed open the front door to allow herself in. Stepping inside, she took a look around.  
  
...it looked like the disaster area of days gone by.  
  
Nothing in the room was upright. Chairs and tables were pushed over onto their sides and lay strewn about the room; the one couch had fallen and lay on its back near the fireplace. Bulletholes were everywhere--in the woodwork of the floor and upper walls, in the furniture, in the large painting over the fireplace. Most of the furniture was broken, splintered and smashed beyond all use. Stains had soaked into the floor and faded--red stains. Bloodstains. There was a thick layer of dust over everything.  
  
Taiga sat on one of the arms of the felled couch, hunched slightly with his back to the door. His hands were, to all appearances, in his lap; his eyes fixed on the floor in front of the fireplace. He didn't give any indication that he had heard her coming in.  
  
Lu shook her head in quiet disbelief. "_This_ is what you wanted to come all this way for," she said. "What happened?"  
  
Taiga shuddered, ever so slightly. "This was the first time," he said. "The first time I lost it. The only time I ever _wanted _to lose it--to kill someone."  
  
Lu swallowed. "Why?"  
  
"It was after my first reconditioning. I swore I would never go back--even if it meant dying. If it meant killing."  
  
Lu frowned. Something wasn't right-- "When?"  
  
Taiga shook his head. "Years. Seventeen or eighteen or fifteen or thirteen or something years. I didn't want to keep track."  
  
"No." Lu shook her head. "You said this was after your first reconditioning. But you said when you deserted with your friend--Seiken--it was the first time you deserted."  
  
Taiga didn't answer.  
  
Lu suppressed a slight shiver. Seeing him here, framed by something of civilization, was surreal--she was used to seeing him out in the wilderness, wind and sun and dirt surrounding him. It had never crossed her mind that he could sit like a normal person inside a normal house--  
  
--even if the house was anything but normal.  
  
"Taiga. You've been lying to me."  
  
Taiga shook his head. "Nothing I said was a lie," he protested weakly.  
  
"Then how--"  
  
"Let me... tell you a story." There was a trembling edge to Taiga's voice. "It's not a very nice story--you probably knew that. It's one you've probably heard the like of before. It's about cyborgs."  
  
Lu took an uneasy step back. "What is this, confessional?" she asked. "What the hell's come over you?"  
  
"Once upon a time," Taiga started, "there was a family of three that lived in this house. A man, his wife, and their daughter. They lived here happily for a few years. One day, come autumn, the wife went out to pick flowers on the hill. A basket full of white flowers...."  
  
"Stop it." It had been easy, when they had been at odds, to deal with Taiga. She could see him as a something--_Taiga, the cyborg_. Then came the night by the riff, the nightmare of pain that followed it, and into her face had been thrown the concept of _Taiga, the man_; someone who it might be possible to understand, to empathize with. She had just begun to come to terms with that when they had arrived--and now, here he was, quietly telling her this in a voice that reeked of impending tragedy and a way that her wonder, all over again, who and what the hell he was. _Taiga, the enigma_.  
  
"She looked up to see two strange men coming toward the house from the east, several hills away. She must have known what was going on, because she ran so fast she spilled the flowers she was picking. She left a trail of them all the way to the back door. They knew what was going to happen. They couldn't have run-you can't outrun cyborgs, especially not with a child, not with a woman in weaker health. They thought that if they cyborgs found the child, she'd be killed. So they gave her her favorite toy and told her not to cry, and hid her in the fireplace. Then they pushed the couch up against it to hide her. And then the cyborgs came in."  
  
Lu shook her head. "I don't want to hear this," she begged. _I've heard enough stories like this. Too many._  
  
"The cyborgs came in," Taiga continued, voice shaking a bit more, "through the back, as the husband and wife were wondering what to do next. They--we--we _fought _them--"  
  
His voice cracked, and Lu winced. There was a moment of terrible silence.  
  
"I don't know how long the girl stayed there without crying. It's unnatural, really, not to cry through something like that. It was noisy--gunshots and shotels and punches. It was a terrible fight. But I don't think she cried. I don't think she ever cried. There was--there was a moment when someone got thrown up against the couch, and shifted it.... One of the legs broke, and got driven into the fireplace. It must have hit her. You would think she would have cried then. But I can't--I can't _remember_ hearing her--"  
  
He took a deep, shuddering breath. Lu closed her eyes, breathing in the silence. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice dispassionate and level.  
  
"I wanted you to know what happened here," Taiga said. There was a minute movement in one of his arms, and something dropped to the floor.  
  
"Why?" _So I could judge you?  
  
_"Because you deserve to know," Taiga said. He took another deep breath. "I'm going to weed the garden," he stated, with a finality of purpose that took Lu offguard. Then he stood up, walking back into another room of the house. After a moment, there was the creak of a door opening on long-unused hinges, and then a quiet _thud_ as the door closed again.  
  
Hesitantly, Lu walked to where he had been sitting and kneeled, feeling the dull ache in her side as she did. She caught her breath--the floor was damp with tears.  
  
In their midst lay the object Taiga had dropped, face-up on the fireplace tiles. It was a toy soldier, inexpertly but lovingly carved from wood and painted. Its helmet was carried underneath one arm, and upon its face was a lopsided, but happy, smile.


	23. Unease

By the time Lu could motivate herself to walk back outside, the sun had spilled over the hill and illuminated the yard. Taiga, true to his word, was on his knees in the garden, and for the second time that day Lu had to muse at how unlikely a scene Taiga made when contrasted with the semi-normality around him.  
  
There was a trowel lying in the dirt, half-rusted away. She bent and picked it up idly, walking over to stand behind Taiga.  
  
"I _deserve to know_," she said darkly. "I don't understand you, 'borg. I just don't."  
  
Taiga might have shrugged--but maybe he was just pulling up a weed. "That day--I was just so angry. So angry with everything. With being a Cyborg, with being chased, with the unfairness of it all--all I wanted to do was kill."  
  
"So you killed the people here," Lu said.  
  
"No," Taiga responded--very, very carefully. "I didn't."  
  
"You--"  
  
"I didn't do it," Taiga said, digging around a particularly stubborn root. "I didn't kill the people who lived here."  
  
"Are you saying it was all the ICI? Or Seiken, and _his_ chip?"  
  
Taiga stopped digging, looking at her. His eyes were still slightly red from tears. "I said I _didn't kill them_. I _couldn't_."  
  
Lu threw down the trowel. "Dammit, cyborg!" she snarled. "Do you plan on making _sense_ anytime soon? You fought them, you didn't kill them, you came here the first time you deserted, you came here after you were reconditioned--you can't keep _pretending_ you're not telling _some_ lies!"  
  
"I'm sorry for what happened here. They deserved better," Taiga said absently. "The woman who lived here. And the girl--_especially_ the girl." He went back to the root, digging... mechanically. "I don't know what happened to her--where she is. I wish I could see her again. I want to tell her how sorry I am."  
  
"Sorry for _not_ killing her entire family?"  
  
Taiga didn't answer.  
  
Lu shook her head. "I think this malfunction is starting to get to you, 'borg," she snarled. "You're going insane."  
  
Taiga paid an excruciating amount of attention to the stubborn root. "Maybe," he said. "Maybe I am."  
  
Lu turned away, irate. Taking slow, deep, painful breaths, she told herself to calm down. "...how long are we staying here?" she asked.  
  
Taiga looked up, as if he had never considered that. "...what?"  
  
"I suppose we're not going to _live_ here for the rest of our days. How long are we staying?"  
  
Taiga faltered. "I... don't know," he said. "I didn't plan that. All I wanted to do was get here."  
  
Lu sighed. _For a while, then._ "I'm going to go put the house in order. Or _try_ to. You really did a number on it, however long ago that was."  
  
"Yes," Taiga mused. "I did."  
  
Lu resisted the urge to turn around and kick him, mostly because she knew it was a stupid thing to do with his ICI acting the way it was and partly because she knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, she stalked back out of the sunlight and into the ruined abode.  
  
A noise from behind her stopped her in the doorway, and she glanced back. Taiga was pulling up on the root, saying something as if to himself.  
  
"Directive. ...define _insanity_."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Analyze host."  
  
There was silence again. Then Taiga exhaled sharply once, as if in dark amusement. Lu quickly slipped inside.  
  
-  
  
The ferry was on time.  
  
Amid the muted whispers of the other passengers and the certainty that Hell was freezing over even then, the group of five slipped into the seating area and took their places. The ferry wasn't much more than a raft with walls and a tent ceiling--it was boxy, uncomfortable, and starkly functional. Only Raijin seemed to care.  
  
Fujin was unusually quiet and morose as they settled in--and, for Fujin, that meant that she was spectacularly subdued. Once in a while Seifer or Raijin would glance over to verify that she was still breathing--which she was, albeit shallowly. Her one-eyed gaze was fixed on something out of the window, although all that could really be seen were the muddy waters of the channel.  
  
At times, glancing over, Seifer would have killed to find out what was going on behind that eye.  
  
Asking, on the other hand, would be an incredibly unpolitical thing to do--so, contenting himself with the fact that he was there as best he could, he bit his tongue.  
  
Had he managed to get an answer from her, however, it would have raised some disturbing sentiments--the overarching feeling of walking to a thick fog, of slipping off a cliff, of being pulled underwater by the current. Fujin wasn't the sort to admit any weakness or unease, but that didn't stop her from _feeling_ it.  
  
They were going into Lower Centra in order to find a murderer. They had followed the trail of death to one place--a place that existed in faded memories, in nightmares and dreams alone. They were going back to a time when she _was_ powerless--when she could be subjected to the worst nightmares imaginable, unable to wake from them, unable to _escape_. That was all the meaning that this trip had for her, it sometimes seemed.  
  
She drew no comfort from the presence of her friends. The Posse was a newer development--nothing to compare to these older demons. She wasn't afraid of anything that could be fought and killed--not _really_. She was afraid of what she might find, down there.  
  
And, most of all, she was afraid of _herself_.


	24. Premonitions

Precipitation in Centra almost invariably came in one of two forms: a foggy drizzle that delivered almost no moisture to the land and only served to reduce visibility to within a few meters, or a raging thunderstorm that deafened all present and delivered a deluge of water that the Centran landscapes couldn't absorb, flooding the region with standing water and mud.  
  
Taiga had spent many nights out under each condition. If there was one thing he retained from his field days, it was that it was best to be inside when a Centran storm struck.  
  
A gust of wind blew through the back door, and Taiga caught Lu shivering out of the corner of his eye. A small fire was crackling in the fireplace, but as yet it hadn't done much to warm the house; old and in such disrepair as it was, there were too many leaks and cracks to block successfully. Taiga had emptied the kitchen of bowls and pots and jars, and each one was standing in a different part of the living room catching the drops that came down through the ceiling. He had scrounged up an old, moth-bitten blanket from one of the closets, and Lu was huddling in it as best she could. She looked utterly miserable--a fact of which Taiga was not entirely unaware.  
  
"...I'm sorry about all this," Taiga said, busying himself with whatever mundane task came to mind. "I know it can't be your idea of a vacation."  
  
Lu shifted slightly, and the blanket rustled. "Not really," she agreed.  
  
"I checked the pantry. There's a good stock of canned food I'd still trust to eat--mostly military-issue stuff. A week's worth, or more. I think I could fix this place up in that time--more or less."  
  
"And then what? Forage? Live the rest of your life out here, off the fat of the land?" There was a soft, derisive noise. "A worthy goal, indeed."  
  
Taiga bit his tongue, endeavoring to pay more attention to the jar he was placing than he actually needed to. "...Lesser Kay isn't too far from here," he said. "If you still thought... I mean, if you--" he shook his head, sliding the jar over so that each droplet from the ceiling fell directly through the center of its mouth. "...I could take you there," he said. "You could go back to Esthar."  
  
Lu didn't seem as surprised by his offer as he would have expected. "Memory Lane wearing on your nerves?"  
  
"I've caused you a lot of trouble," Taiga said. "You shouldn't have to stay here any longer."  
  
"These last few days have just been one extended crisis of conscience for you, haven't they, 'borg?" Lu sounded amused. It was vaguely unsettling.  
  
"I--"  
  
"You want to do me a favor? You want to make things easier on me?" There was another rustle. "You can tell me what's really going on here."  
  
Taiga shifted his weight, staring at the jar as water fell into it. "...I don't think you'd believe me if I did tell you," he said.  
  
"Try me."  
  
Taiga shrugged uneasily. "...I lived here for a while."  
  
"And?"  
  
"...I got caught."  
  
"What's with this 'Seiken' person? You always talk about him, but--"  
  
"He died."  
  
Lu dropped the rest of her sentence.  
  
"...it wasn't when I got caught," Taiga went on. "It was before that. One day he just started walking, and didn't come back. After a while I went out looking for him, and I found him lying up against a rock outcropping, dead. He--he had just taken his left breastplate, and pulled it off. And he was just sitting there, dead, staring at it--staring at his heart." He swallowed, hard. "...I think that was the first recorded cyborg suicide. ...he always was a sensationalist. ...one for the record books."  
  
Lu was quiet.  
  
Taiga stood up, shaking his head. "...there was something I was wondering about you, too," he said.  
  
Lu breathed deeply. "Well--"  
  
"But not now. I... don't feel so good." He gestured vaguely, well aware that she probably couldn't see it. "...I'm going outside for a bit. You know, I... always did kinda like the rain."  
  
Lu groaned, closing her eyes as Taiga opened the front door and let himself out. It seemed as if every time the conversation took a step toward becoming civil, it turned unpleasant in some other way.  
  
The door was slammed shut by the wind, and she jumped--and winced, as her bruise was jostled. The room returned to its earlier lull--dripping water, whistling wind, and crackling fire.  
  
There was no clock in the room by which to measure the time, but it seemed as if the minutes were passing more slowly than usual. Lu pulled the blanket tighter around her, staring into the fire and endeavoring to lose herself in her own musings.  
  
It was quite some time later when the first notes of concern began to manifest in her mind. At first she resolutely pushed them away, but soon it became apparent that they were not to be so easily ignored. The image was crystallizing in her mind of a cyborg, leaning up against a rock in the barren Centran waste, ribs and armor ripped away, heart exposed--  
  
It was a totally irrational fear, and she knew it. Even so, the more she tried to ignore it, the more vivid the image got.  
  
Finally, shaking her head, she stood up--gathering the blanket around her like a cloak, she made her way to the front door and pushed it open.  
  
Darkness greeted her--darkness and wind. Gazing tentatively into the night, she wondered about the wisdom of going out.  
  
"Taiga?" she called, hoping fervently for an answer.  
  
"Lu!" Taiga sounded surprised to hear her--his voice came from somewhere in the front yard, but she wasn't sure exactly where.  
  
"Are you--"  
  
"Get back!" Taiga's voice spoke to a terrible urgency. "Get back in the house!"  
  
"What is it?" Lu called, searching for Taiga's form in the deluge. "What's going on?"  
  
Taiga was crouched behind the gate, staring into the grey distance. Everything in his posture screamed _alert._ "Something's out there," he hissed. "Something's coming through the rain!"


	25. The Hammer Falls

Fujin had disappeared.  
  
This was not a welcome change of pace for Seifer, who was already drenched, cold, and tired. Now, between wondering why they had to have caught up with the rain and endure a forced march through the middle of nowhere, he had to try to figure out where the hell Fujin had gone and _how_ in the name of all things holy she had given them the slip.  
  
No one else in the team seemed especially pleased, either, but Seifer's snarling affront was by far the most obvious show of displeasure. Raijin only seemed baffled, Nida wearied, and Squall--exactly as Squall had looked through the rest of the trip.  
  
They were standing at the top of a small hill, two Blood Souls lying dead at their feet. Somewhere in the brief commotion of their attack Fujin had made a break for it, and no one could venture a guess as to where she had gone.  
  
The point of Hyperion dug into the mud, and Seifer looked around once more. He had no idea where Fujin had been leading them, so he had no idea which direction she would have headed off to. "We're going to have to split up," he said, at length. "It's the only way we're gonna find her."  
  
There was an expectant silence, all eyes turning to Squall to hear his imminent objection. However, either he had had the same idea or he was just getting used to the idea that his objections were going to be ignored one way or another--he didn't respond with anything except a curt "Fine. Whatever."  
  
"Here," Nida said, glancing at Squall. "I'll go with Seifer, and you can go with Raijin. We'll scout down when the hills even out, and you can go along the hill line. If we find her or anything, we can send up a Flare, and you can do the same."  
  
Squall gave Raijin a sidelong glance, and grimaced. Shrugging sullenly, he turned on his heel and stalked off without ceremony. Raijin glanced back at Nida and Seifer, and then hurried to catch up.  
  
Seifer shook his head, staring at what little he could see of the lowlands through the rain. "I'll take left," he said. "You go right."  
  
"Uh, the idea was really to--"  
  
"If I need your help, I'll holler." Seifer's tone brooked no room for argument. Sheathing Hyperion, he started down the hill.  
  
"All right, then," Nida said dubiously from behind him. "Have it your way."  
  
There was a faint light somewhere down below that Nida hadn't seen, and Seifer's curiosity was piqued. He doubted it was a fire--not in _this_ weather--and it seemed unlikely to be an outpost or house, but the fact was that it was there. All he knew was that Fujin was looking for _something_ in this goddamned wasteland, and _something_ was putting out that light.  
  
He made good time without really meaning to hurry, drawing closer to the source of the light. The something was beginning to materialize out of the storm, now--a building, not large, but not tiny. The light was coming from one of the windows, blurry in the rain--  
  
...it was a _house_.  
  
One house, in the middle of nowhere. What it was doing there was anyone's guess.  
  
In fact, it looked very homely--if also very overgrown. It had bushed and a tree or two and what looked to be a crude tire swing and a picket fence in poor repair--  
  
--and someone stood up from behind the picket fence, posture making it evident that he had seen Seifer and that Seifer had better not come any closer.  
  
"Who are you?" the man called, voice half-masked by the rain. "Esthar patrol?"  
  
Seifer made a disarming gesture, approaching until he could see the man. It was a cyborg--sans helmet, sans weapon. "Just passing by," he said.  
  
"Don't come any closer." The man looked him over, stepping out of the gate and closing it behind him. "Tell me who you are."  
  
Esthar was on a long list of countries that Seifer doubted would be happy to see him. "No one, really," he said. "You?"  
  
The man looked around uncomfortably. "I don't want to fight you," he said. "I really, _really_ don't. Just tell me who you are, and why you're out here."  
  
Seifer's hand went to his gunblade. "That isn't your business," he shot back.  
  
The cyborg's eyes fixed on his hand, and he took a step back. "Don't--" he said softly.  
  
"I'm just looking for someone."  
  
The man's face fell, as if Seifer had informed him that the world was ending. "You should leave here," he said. "Now."  
  
Seifer's hand tightened visibly on the hilt of his weapon. "Was that a _threat_?" he demanded.  
  
"_Stop!_" The cyborg's voice was charged with urgency. "If you draw, I'll _kill _you--"  
  
Seifer wasn't the kind of person who would take threats or orders from rank-and-file soldiers. In one smooth motion, he drew Hyperion from its sheath and swept into a ready position.  
  
The cyborg flinched, hands going up to his face. He staggered, swaying abruptly to one side. In the next instant he had snapped into an attack stance, eyes fixed on his opponent. There was no expression on his face.  
  
_Damn robot,_ Seifer though. _He's programmed to attack, so he'll attack. Shouldn't be too hard--cyborgs can't rise above the level of their programs._  
  
The cyborg sidled, gait even and mechanical. Seifer charged preemptively, fencing in with the sword. Cyborgs were quick, but they couldn't improvise--their predictability was their greatest weakness.  
  
The cyborg deflected the blow with the back of his forearm armor, sliding in under Seifer's guard. _Textbook,_ he thought, executing a neat spin to bring Hyperion into the cyborg's neck--  
  
_--GAH!_  
  
A blinding pain lanced up his left side, and the spin ended in a painful half-stumble. One of the cyborg's hands had latched onto his flesh just above his left hip, and the rigid gloves were very quickly digging their way through his vest.  
  
Seifer twisted, taking a few undignified swats at the cyborg with his gunblade. Each one was deflected--easily, mechanically. A fumbled parry, and the cyborg knocked Hyperion away--it went spinning off into the rain, leaving Seifer disarmed.  
  
_I don't believe this_, ran through his mind. _I'm getting beat by a soldier._  
  
The cyborg's free hand made a pass at his face, and he grabbed his opponent's wrist and held on tight. One hand engaged, the cyborg let of of his side to take a more crippling strike--  
  
In an instant Seifer let go of him, breaking off and making a dash for his weapon. The cyborg interposed himself between Seifer and his objective, and he backed off again. "_Nida!"_  
  
The cyborg charged, and Seifer twisted away--almost not fast enough. His enemy seized his collar, yanking back on his coat. Without regard for dignity or comfort Seifer slipped out of the coat, hitting the ground and rolling. Everything depended on not letting the cyborg get a grip on him.  
  
_For the love of Hyne--_ "..._NIDA!!"_ He had never thought he would be in a position when he honestly felt he had to call for help.  
  
Closing the distance again, the cyborg let go of his trenchcoat. Seifer snaked a hand out, catching the trailing hem and pulling over and upward. The coat was heavy with rain and mud--it slapped the cyborg hard across his face, blinding him for a few crucial moments.  
  
The pain in his side was excruciating, but Seifer disregarded it--he scrambled to his feet, rushing past the cyborg and picking up Hyperion. As soon as he turned to join the battle again, the cyborg was charging--it was sheer instinct that allowed him to dodge and strike a heavy blow to his enemy's torso. The armor cracked, revealing wires and components--and also, flesh and blood.  
  
With an unhealthy jerk, the cyborg spun to follow his movements. Both hands closed around Hyperion's blade, twisting it in an attempt to wrest it from Seifer's grasp.  
  
Seifer pulled backward, sliding the gunblade out of the cyborg's hands. Leaning all his weight into the swing, he aimed for a head shot--  
  
The cyborg reacted quickly, catching the blow on the inside of his arm. Slipping in under his guard again, he tried once again to grapple--  
  
A Flare erupted in the sky above them, shockwave pushing them both into the ground and light dazzling them. At the angle Seifer landed, he could see Nida at the top of one of the nearby hills, sword drawn, sprinting to join the fray.  
  
It was a moment of distraction that the cyborg didn't waste.  
  
How he regained his footing so quickly was a tribute to Estharan technology. Seifer hardly had time to _try _to roll away before a ferocious heel drop slammed into his ribcage with all the force to crush bone. His entire torso screamed with pain as he tried to get away, get up, continue the fight--  
  
"CEASE," roared a very familiar voice.  
  
Everyone stopped.  
  
The cyborg's head snapped up, registering some new threat. Nida ground to a halt halfway down the hill, and Seifer pulled back and tried not to make any sudden movements. He was well aware that _something_ was broken--all he needed to do was count how many ribs.  
  
And Fujin stood at the crest of one of the hills, distance making her dark form seem like an extension of the rain.  
  
"CEASE," she commanded again, eye fixed on the cyborg. "THREAT; DISREGARD."  
  
The cyborg jerked back, half-turning to face her while the other half still seemed intent on pummeling Seifer. His arms flailed, and he stumbled.  
  
Fujin advanced, hands out at her sides and open. Her shuriken remained securely on her back, untouched.  
  
"DISREGARD," she commanded again.  
  
The cyborg spasmed once, both hands going up to his face. "...disregard," he muttered, nigh-inaudible in the force of the downpour. "Directive. _Disregard threat._"  
  
The line of the hill valley made a kind of rain-choked amphitheatre as the strange scene unfolded. All attention turned to Fujin as she continued down the hill, secrets and purpose written in every motion.  
  
"TAIGA C1128513," she stated, enunciating with judicial force. She stopped advancing as she drew up to him, scarce a metre away. "TAIGA," she repeated.  
  
He was shaking, and almost flinched back--but something caught him. His brow furrowed as he peered at her, as if scouring her face for traces of something past remembrance. "A--" he whispered. "_Anyev..._?"  
  
Fujin's head bowed, and her knees buckled. The reality of so many days' toll made itself apparent--in one crushing blow, all the weariness of the road laid itself squarely on her. Exhaustion toppled her forward, sending her crashing into the cyborg and pulling them both to the ground as he tried to catch her.  
  
When she didn't yell, Fujin's voice was very soft. So it was likely that only Taiga heard what she said into the hard composite of his breastplate; the one word which, whispered, rang so clearly in his ears that all else--rain, ICI, and erstwhile opponents--seemed simply to cease to be.  
  
"_Father._"


	26. Home

It was like no other sensation he had ever experienced.  
  
It wasn't all physical--although that was a good part of it. It was impossible not to wonder at what his senses were telling him: the faint smell of dirt and sweat being washed away in the rain, the sound of wet cloth sliding ever so slightly against armor, the sound of breathing, of hearts beating--it wasn't only that. It was more than the presence of the moment, more than the physical reality of holding another human in his arms and kneeling in the standing water, more than the warmth of a living being under his hands and against his cheek contrasting itself to the cold rain. It was much more.  
  
There was so much more to being here, watching her, that no amount of feeling in the world could really do it justice.  
  
She moved slowly, gently--with infinite care, she placed her hand on the gouge that had bitten into his side. _You treat a wounded cyborg like you treat a wounded animal,_ Taiga thought wryly. _No sudden movements, or it might attack._  
  
"Hurt," she whispered.  
  
As if on that cue, the ICI chimed in. **_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Uncertain. Directive: Observe. Status: Damaged. Directive: Repair. Energy: High. Directive: None. Location: Hope-Kay Lowlands. Directive: Proceed to terminal at Lesser Kay._**  
  
"Not critical," he whispered back. "...I think you've confounded my ICI."  
  
She made a low noise at that--it took him a moment to realize she was chuckling. "Useless," she said.  
  
He smiled. "It is," he agreed. "...maybe we should stand up."  
  
Without any more prompting, Fujin maneuvered her shoulder underneath Taiga's arm, slipping her own arm around his waist and half-helping, half-dragging him to his feet. Taiga was impressed--she was evidently stronger than she looked.  
  
Still feeling inexplicably unbalanced, he turned to look at his downed adversary. The newcomer was helping him up--and, now that he noticed it, there were two more people approaching quickly from the top of the hill. He staggered backward--instantly finding a blue-sleeved hand on his arm to steady him.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513_,** the ICI repeated. **_Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Negotiate._**  
  
"...maybe I should learn all of your names," he said, gesturing awkwardly. The young man whom he had inadvertently attacked was standing, half-glaring and half-wincing at him. "...I would be less likely to identify you as a threat, that way. Anyev I--I know, but--"  
  
"Her name is Fujin," his opponent said. Taiga raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Fujin," he said. "...I... can't complain, I guess. Good, solid name." He was receiving a hearty glare, now--as well as a few wary glances from the newcomer. "I'm Taiga. Along with the -jin names, I guess you could call me Kaijin. Has a certain _ring_ to it, doesn't it?"  
  
Fujin let out a truncated chuckle. Nodding to the two of them, she said "Kajin. ...Ninjin."  
  
Taiga chuckled as well, and both of them turned to give him confused looks. "...I'm Taiga," he identified himself. "Taiga C1128513. Some of my friends--well, _one_ of my friends--used to call me Taiga Agiat. It has a certain _ring_ to it, too."  
  
"...I'm Nida," the newcomer said, not understanding the joke and not bothering to ask about it. "This is Seifer. ...the two people coming up behind you are Squall and Raijin. ...Raijin is the one who's wishing he brought a coat along."  
  
Taiga turned, to the barely audible noise of Fujin snickering. "Ujin and Raijin," she re-identified.  
  
Taiga laughed, extending a hand as they approached. "Taiga C1128513," he said. "...you two look _drenched_. ...care to come inside?"  
  
-  
  
There was no possible way for Lu's face to accurately convey the amount of shock that accompanied Taiga's re-entrance to the house accompanied by five teenagers. As it was, she just stood there and stared until Taiga gave her a reassuring--if a bit pained--grin.  
  
"I found some friends," he explained briefly, tilting his head toward the girl who was supporting him at his left arm. The girl in question was fixing her with the same look _she_ had first given to _Taiga_--aggravation, distrust, and a light edge of incredulous surprise. "This is Anyev; those over there are--"  
  
"Taiga!" she said as soon as she had found her voice again. It came out as much more of a startled squawk than she had intended. "My Hyne, you're _injured_!"  
  
Taiga kept smiling. "We were just wrasslin'," he said. "Nothin' serious."  
  
"_I can see your ribs!_" Lu returned.  
  
Taiga glanced down, grimacing. Everyone else in the room was momentarily forgotten--watching uncomfortably as the adults argued. "...that's not my rib," he said quietly. "That's a shunt."  
  
Lu was turning distinctly green in the face.  
  
Taiga cleared his throat. "Um... look. In the bathroom, under the sink, there should be an old first-aid kit--military issue. Could you get that, maybe?"  
  
Lu nodded, and hurried out of the room as fast as she could. Taiga sighed, easing his arm from Fujin's grasp and making his way to one of the old chairs.  
  
"Make yourselves at home," he said, motioning to the room. "I know it can't be what you're used to, but I haven't had time to fix it up--I only just got here, see. I--used to live here. I haven't, though. Not for a long time."  
  
Seifer had stalked over to one of the other chairs in the room and collapsed into it, scowling heavily to mask the fact that he was, in fact, in a great deal of pain. Instead of making any response to Taiga's explanation, he contented himself by glaring daggers at him from across the room.  
  
Lu re-entered, carrying the old metal case. Taiga took it from her genially, standing up.  
  
"Here," he said, approaching Seifer. "Let me take care of that--"  
  
"I can _take care_ of myself," Seifer shot back, drawing up in his commandeered chair.  
  
Taiga raised an eyebrow at him. "Wrap up your own busted ribcage? Not likely." Taiga reached for his shoulder--  
  
--only to be met harshly as Seifer slapped his hand away, moving with the speed of instinct. There was a sharp intake of breath from Lu, a mental _click...._  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Negotiate._**  
  
"...okay," Taiga yielded, backing away. "Um... have it your way. Just... don't attack me, okay? It won't turn out nicely. The ICI--"  
  
Fujin had pulled up behind him, giving him another rather nasty startle when he realized that he hadn't noticed her doing so."RAIJIN," she snapped. "ASSIST."  
  
Raijin jumped. "Er--yeah, ya know," he said. "Glad to."  
  
Seifer stood up, still glaring. "Where's your bathroom?" he asked, every syllable clipped and terse.  
  
"Back that way," Taiga answered, motioning off in its general direction.  
  
Seifer didn't acknowledge the directions. Grabbing Nida's pack, he stalked off. Raijin, with a backwards glance at Fujin, followed close behind.  
  
Lu shook her head, trying to make everything settle into some semblance of logic. "_What_ the devil is going _on_ here," she asked.  
  
There was a moment's pause.  
  
Squall stepped forward, intent on salvaging what he could of the situation. "I'm SeeD Squall Leonhart," he introduced himself. "...this is SeeD Nida. We were dispatched from Balamb Garden to recover Seifer."  
  
Lu glanced toward Taiga. "Seifer is the angry young man," Taiga translated.  
  
"The idiot," Lu translated again.  
  
Squall wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't try. "Seifer come here following Fujin, and we were... forced to accompany him. We shouldn't be staying long."  
  
Lu nodded, turning to Fujin. "...I guess you're Fujin," she said.  
  
"Anyev," Taiga corrected. "Anyev Agiat."  
  
Lu nodded again, more skeptically this time. "And... may I ask why you're out here?"  
  
Fujin's gaze was level and challenging, and she waited a moment before responding as if to say _no, you may not._ "I was looking for father," she answered simply.  
  
_Out here, in **this** house--_ A cold sliver of dread wormed its way into Lu's stomach. "And... your father is...?"  
  
Taiga smiled--a wry, lopsided, _damnably_ unreadable smile. "That would be me," he said, and waited for the outburst that was sure to follow.


	27. History

Remarkably, Lu managed to keep her incredulity in check--enough so as not to make a scene before their guests, at least. Instead she pursed her lips, looked at him hard, and finally said "We should get that injury of yours cleaned up."  
  
Taiga smiled, motioning off to one of the doors that lead from the living room. "There's another med pack in the den," he said.  
  
Lu motioned him off, curtly. Taiga turned to Fujin, nodding slightly.  
  
"Anyev, could you stay out here? ...I need to talk to Lu."  
  
Fujin frowned, but nodded. "Yes," she said simply.  
  
Taiga gave her a brilliantly sincere smile, and stepped through the door. Lu followed him, entering a half-lit room. There was a desk, a few bookshelves with even fewer books, an endtable--and leaning against the wall was the second medpack.  
  
Taiga picked it up, laying it on the desk. "You look like you have something you want to ask me," he said.  
  
Lu's jaw worked for a moment as she tried to figure out how to respond to such a biting understatement. "All this time, and it _never_ occurred to you to tell me you had a _child_?" she finally demanded.  
  
Taiga shrugged, halfheartedly. "Would you have believed me!"  
  
"Of _course_ not!" Lu snapped back. "That's not the _point_!"  
  
Taiga located a pair of large tweezers in the case, picking at the fragments of armor that had lodged in his skin. "What is?"  
  
"The point is--is--" Lu, apparently, wasn't sure either. After a moment, she gave up, and shook her head. "I don't _know_, 'borg. When have I _ever_ known anything about you?"  
  
"Since about the time I've known anything about you," Taiga responded, dropping the first of the fragments into a chipped porcelain bowl on the desk. Lu winced.  
  
"...doesn't that hurt?"  
  
Taiga glanced up. "The ICI system delivers nerve blockers to any wounded area," he said. "Nerve-blockers and coagulants. If they could have figured out how to make the armor repair itself, they'd have built that in, too."  
  
Lu was still blanching. "How--" she began.  
  
"I'll bandage it up, and call it good. I wouldn't be able to get it repaired without... y'know. Going _back_."  
  
Lu looked him over, as if she was re-evaluating him. "What would they do to you if they caught you again?"  
  
"The same thing they'd do to any other cyborg. Recondition me and put me back into the unit."  
  
Lu didn't respond at _all_ to that. After a moment, having extracted another chip of armor, Taiga glanced up.  
  
"...are you all right?"  
  
"That's what makes you so different," Lu said quietly. "Her."  
  
Taiga nodded, voice dropping. "...I'm the only one who had something to return to, out here," he said. "...but I never thought I'd find her. I thought... I thought she might be dead." He shuddered. "I'm glad. I'm glad I found her now. This'd be my last chance."  
  
Lu had opened her mouth to ask a question, but she swallowed it. "Your last--"  
  
"It's not going to happen again. If I get reconditioned now, I won't make it back out."  
  
Lu regarded him for a moment, and made an astute leap of reasoning. "You'll go insane."  
  
Taiga didn't respond.  
  
"But--" Lu bit her lip, growling to herself at some perceived injustice. "Surely they wouldn't just _do_ that without any--any sort of a _trial_, would they? If all _this_ doesn't constitute some kind of extenuating circumstances, I'll be _damned_--"  
  
"It doesn't," Taiga said. "There are no extenuating circumstances for a cyborg. There's the programming, and there's malfunctioning."  
  
"You have a _daughter_, Taiga!"  
  
"It's never come up in the rulebooks, Lu. Cyborgs--"  
  
"--cyborgs _can't_ have children. But if that's the case, then _how_...."  
  
Taiga chuckled dryly. "I thought you would ask that sooner."  
  
"Every time I think of _one_ question, you interrupt and force me to ask three _different_ ones," Lu shot back.  
  
Taiga shrugged, moving mechanically on with his shattered armor. "Remember when we met? I told you you reminded me of someone?"  
  
Lu thought for a moment. "No."  
  
"Well... you remind me of someone. An Esthar anthrobiologist, Alda Lucreche. She had started her career off as a minor technic in the Cybernetics Corps--she worked on developing benign integration systems for the cybernetic systems. Later, she transferred out and went into medicine and microbio. I met her... after Seiken died."  
  
"What?"  
  
Taiga stared at one of the armor fragments with far more concentration than he really needed to extract it. "It was after Seiken died. I was a mess, wandering around with no idea where to go or why. The ICI--well, the ICI was even more annoying than it is now. I didn't know how to deal with it. That's when I ran into Alda."  
  
Lu stepped forward, taking the tweezers for him. and setting to work on his side. "Go on," she said.  
  
Taiga leaned back, shifting his arm to allow her freer access to his side. "She... she was the most amazingly gentle person I'd ever met. She treated me like a wounded animal--she brought me in, fed me, cleaned me up... Hyne, she was so _kind_! I'd never run into anyone like that. ...she didn't know I was a deserter at first, but when she found out she didn't change. She _understood_ it. She wanted to help me stay lost."  
  
Lu _hmph_ed. "Doesn't sound too much like me."  
  
"...it's that North Esthar color," Taiga explained. "Your skin, your hair. She had the lightest hair I'd ever seen."  
  
"Alda Lucreche," Lu said, tasting the name. "Hmph. She sounds like a regular angel of love and mercy."  
  
"She was," Taiga responded, no trace of irony or cynicism in his voice. "We--Hyne, I don't know if what happened then was a romance or a divine comedy. Sometimes I think it was God's joke on me. But we fell in love. ...and then I was captured."  
  
"You said you came out here after you were reconditioned once," Lu recalled. "Was that then?"  
  
"As soon as I could, I broke out again," Taiga told her. "I found her, and we ran away together. She left off her assignment in the middle--took her equipment and vanished with me. We came out here, to this house. We--oh, Hyne in his heaven, we were young and stupid and in love and we thought that everything would work, that they would never find us out here. We thought we had the rest of our _lives_ together. We thought--we thought--oh, _Hyne!_"  
  
Taiga jerked away from her, causing her to tug one of the shards out less cleanly than she would have preferred. Lu froze--not wanting to be recognized as a threat by some odd quirk in the ICI, and not wanting to interrupt him.  
  
"We thought we were _safe_. Safe enough to start a family, to--to _be_ a family. Alda--she was in cybernetics and microbio, and it's lucky, because it wasn't too hard for _her_ to figure out a workaround... it wasn't perfect, it _couldn't_ be, and that's the reason for--well. She was born early, for one, and she's albino, and some of her senses aren't what they can be, but--but she's _perfect_, Lu, the only perfect thing in my damned _life_. People always say that childbirth is a miracle and all that. Well--well--they're _wrong_. That's _nothing_ compared to this. It's--she did the impossible. She... she proved that we were _human_."  
  
Lu didn't know how to respond. "...it's incredible," she finally responded.  
  
"This house, here. This house has a lot of history to it, and I remember it all--I remember how she grew up, and how much we _loved_ her and each other and--that fight. They found us. They came over the hill and down here--Alda never had the best of health, and you can't run from cyborgs. We hid her--they wouldn't look for a _child_, why would they? And they killed Alda, and they took me away, and they reconditioned me, and after so many years it didn't quite take--I had changed so much, and the programming wasn't welcome any more. I knew I had to find her--to find Anyev. I broke away again, and looked for her--but by then I was already cracking. I remember killing--I remember trying to find her, and failing, and killing, and then I'd get caught, and they'd take me back--"  
  
A racking shudder passed through him.  
  
"I stopped trying after a while. It just wasn't worth it, and every time they reconditioned me it got a little bit worse. I just stayed with the unit, tried to forget--but I couldn't. And this time--this time, I don't know what came over me. I was out on a patrol, and... and maybe it was the wind, or the sun, or _something_ reminded me of Seiken and Alda and Anyev and I couldn't just give up, I had to try to get out here one last time--and if I failed, then it was all over." He swallowed, making a bid to regain his composure. "It's the last time, and I tried my hardest, and luck gave me _you_, and we drove each other this far. And I haven't gone insane. Not yet."  
  
Lu was almost surprised to find herself shaking. "This house--" she began.  
  
"This house was Seiken's idea. He was the joker of the unit--always was. Poet, dreamer, class clown. He stole some money and transferred it over the hardwire to a construction company here. Told them to build a house at the latitude and longitude he told them--degree, minute, and second. And then he told me that we were going to go there and restart our lives." He smiled sadly. "But he never got here. ...I like to think of it as his wedding gift to Alda and me."  
  
Lu looked down. "I'm sorry." ..._I'm sorry I made you re-live that._  
  
"...it's not your fault. I'm just--I'm just glad I'm here. Again. With--with Anyev, and--" He swallowed. "...I think I need to sleep."  
  
Lu blinked. "_Sleep_?"  
  
"What?" Taiga glanced back at her, as evenly as he could. "I need to sleep, too."  
  
Lu crossed her arms. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen you sleep," she said.  
  
"Well, I don't need to sleep as much as _you_ do," Taiga responded. "I go to sleep later and wake up earlier. But... I'm tired. More tired than I think I've ever been--I'm going to so say my goodnights and sleep. I'll--I'll see you in the morning, Lu."  
  
Taiga stepped out of the den, and Lu sat down heavily into one of the chairs. There was an ache in her stomach that she couldn't quite place--it was coming from the dust, from the forgotten air of the house, from the words that were still spinning in the back of her mind.  
  
It was several long minutes before words presented themselves to her, attaching themselves to images--Taiga in the den, Taiga by the fireplace, Taiga weeding the garden.  
  
_Human_, she realized. And close on that came another.  
  
_...home._


	28. Night

It was hard to hide anything from Fujin's watchful gaze, and Taiga had never had much practice disguising fatigue. As soon as he stepped out of the den she was standing in front of him, attracting his attention with a gentle touch on the shoulder. Taiga didn't jump--he was too tired to be startled, really, and he had been expecting immediate attention anyway.  
  
"FATIGUED," she snapped, voice surprisingly commanding for someone of her stature. "REST."  
  
Taiga smiled thinly, letting himself stare at his daughter. He would never get tired, he decided, of looking at her. "I'm sorry, Anyev. I wanted to be able to talk with you--we have so much to talk about."  
  
Fujin's eye softened. "Tomorrow," she rasped. "Rest now."  
  
Taiga pulled her close, closing his eyes and taking a moment to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Then he let go, holding her back at arms length. "Good night," he wished her.  
  
"Good night," she returned.  
  
Taiga glanced toward the rest of the room's occupants--who were either watching him with unveiled curiosity or being very careful to ignore him. "We don't have much bedspace," he apologized, "but make yourselves as comfortable as you can. Good night, everyone."  
  
There were a few civil nods, a low mutter, and Taiga slipped off into the bedroom. The rain outside was still coming down--the bed was slightly damp--but it formed a pleasant ambient murmur.  
  
Taiga hadn't realized how tired he was until he looked at the bed, barely forcing himself to pull off the musty bedding before collapsing into it and closing his eyes. The bed was soft--not that it mattered so much, what with the armored exoskeleton.  
  
Phantom pains were dancing all over him--sparking from his damaged side and creeping into his arms and legs. They always seemed to come back after damage, never so bad as the first days after everything had been implanted, but bad enough.  
  
"Directive," he muttered, trying to block out the pain. "Sleep."  
  
The ICI didn't respond except for a slight hiss in his collar. Taiga wondered at it for a moment--maybe the chemicals were having trouble with the adrenaline that must still have been in his system. It had been an interesting day.  
  
"Directive," he began again. "Sl--"  
  
**_Directive error,_** the ICI responded flatly. **_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Uncertain. Directive: Disregard._**  
  
_What, the....  
  
**Status: Damaged. Directive: Shutdown.**_****  
  
_...NO--!_  
  
There was a moment of all-consuming terror.  
  
Nothingness followed quickly.

-

When Lu exited the den, the first thing she encountered was the steel-hard glare that Fujin was trying to drill through her skull.If she had ever felt threatened by Taiga--intentionally or unintentionally--it was nothing compared to the sheer, all-eclipsing _disapproval_ that radiated from his daughter.  
  
Lu froze, and seriously considered backing into the Den again.  
  
"EXPLAIN," Fujin demanded before she got a chance to. Lu hesitated, glancing across the room nervously.  
  
"I'm not sure what you mean," she evaded.  
  
"INTRODUCE," Fujin snapped. "EXPLAIN."  
  
Lu made her way uneasily to a chair, never facing away from Fujin as she did so. "Well," she began, sitting down, "...my name is Hali Lu. Um... your father doesn't know me too well, Anyev. We met up a while back, east a ways of here. I'd been taken by a group of bandits... for reasons I guess I still haven't gone over with him. He took care of them, and... circumstances dictated that we would have to travel together for a ways." She blinked. "...your father would probably be willing to give you a more _detailed_ account."  
  
Fujin didn't respond to that one way or another, so Lu didn't know precisely how she had taken it. But she was still staring, so Lu figured that she had to say _something_ to reduce the awkwardness.  
  
"Anyev," she began uneasily, "I don't know how much you... you _know_ about your father, especially for having been separated for so long. But I've found out a bit about him in the time we've spent together, and--"  
  
Fujin's one eye was narrowing.  
  
"--and I've come to know a few things," Lu finished hurriedly. "Anyev, there's a problem with your father's programming--"  
  
"PROGRAMMING _IS_ PROBLEM," Fujin retorted.  
  
"...I guess it is, in some ways." Lu swallowed carefully. "I'm not a high-ranking science officer, and I work in natural sciences instead of technological sciences, but I... I _know_ people, and I think I could get him somewhere where I could get him helped."  
  
Fujin was staring at her with what Lu could only assume was skepticism. She took a deep breath, and continued.  
  
"I want to get him back to Esthar. I have _some_ authority--not a lot, Hyne knows, but I think I can assure his safety. I want--I _have_ to try to help him."  
  
Fujin was still frowning. "HOW?"  
  
"Technology has increased a lot since the cybernetic implants cyborgs use were first introduced," Lu explained. "So has knowledge of human anatomy, of surgery--the implants were designed to be integrated, so that they couldn't be removed. But that was a long time ago--maybe they _can_ be removed now. It's just that no one's ever tried."  
  
Fujin considered that.  
  
"What I'm asking is..." Lu hesitated again, hoping to garner enough trust to make this work. "I want you to help me convince him to come back--and to convince anyone in Esthar that this is the only right thing to do. The way I understand it, provisions don't get made for cyborgs. But if they won't make provisions for _you_, then--"  
  
Fujin nodded. "UNDERSTOOD.'  
  
Lu tried not to show any of the anxiety she felt. "Then--"  
  
"ACCEPTABLE."  
  
"Um," one of the room's other occupants spoke up, raise a hand pointedly. After a moment, Lu attached the name _Nida_ to him. "Small problem. It's been pretty clearly demonstrated that Seifer's going to follow Fujin wherever she goes, and our job is kinda to get him back to Garden. Not to mention that I don't think Esthar is going to be too happy having him walk around, given that he tried to _invade_ _the country_ less than a month ago. It's not that I don't sympathize with everything that's going on, and I hate to play the bad cop here, but this only complicates things on our end."  
  
Lu was still digesting a point about a sentence back. "He's--Hyne in hell, he's _that_ Seifer?"  
  
"...or maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that," Nida followed up, awkwardly.  
  
Lu cast a glance back toward the bathroom, blanching.  
  
Fujin turned to Squall, gaze considering. "CONTACT CID," she said. "REPORT. ACCOMPANY."  
  
Squall ignored for a moment the fact that Fujin was _asking_ him to come along, and fixed on protocol. "It's not that easy," he began.  
  
"Actually," Nida interrupted, "given that it's _Cid_, it'll probably be exactly that easy. But that doesn't take care of the problem of having Seifer walking around in Esthar."  
  
Lu, still rather pale, was making a concerted effort to get used to the fact that they had an overthrown war general standing in the bathroom recovering from his fight with Taiga. "Well," she said, rapping her fingers against the arm of the chair, "I don't think _anyone_ is going to be expecting him to be... well... _who he is_. No one's seen pictures, and I think the general thought was that he's be... well... a bit _older_. If we don't point it out to anyone--if we call him something different and don't _try_ to give it away--I don't think anyone will know."  
  
"_Well_, then." Nida glanced toward Squall. "Problem solved before it even comes up."  
  
Squall looked rather less than convinced.  
  
Fujin was still watching him. "ACCOMPANY," she said again. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she flinched away and added "...PLEASE."  
  
Squall sighed. "I'll contact Cid," he agreed.  
  
Nida grinned. "Well. Looks like we've got everything more-or-less sorted. Now what?"  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
A few moments later, Seifer and Raijin made their way out of the bathroom, Seifer looking distinctly as if he would like to murder something--repeatedly, if at all possible.  
  
"All right," he snarled, directing his anger at everything in general and nothing in particular. "Now, would someone like to tell me what the _hell_ is going on?" 


	29. Rude Awakening

When Fujin woke up, she was surprised not to have dreamed.  
  
She had commandeered one corner of the old couch, curled up on one of the cushions with her head resting on the armrest. Sunlight was cutting through the clouds outside, and she could feel the slight warmth of it on her back. For a long moment she wanted to just close her eyes again, burrow deeper into the cushions, and fall asleep again--but she resister the urge, and stretched out instead.  
  
--almost. She stopped herself before she went too far--Seifer had taken up residence at the opposite end of the couch, and she came perilously close to kicking him in the injured ribs. While allowing herself a moment of amusement at the rude awakening that would have meant for Seifer, she decided that he had put up with enough over the past few days and took pity on him. She rolled off the couch and onto her feet, taking a quick look around.  
  
Seifer was sprawled out on the couch--one hand thrown over the armrest and the other dangling over the back--and looked to be quite fast asleep. Raijin was nearby--stretched out in the corner near the fireplace, having confiscated the middle cushion from the couch and used it as a pillow. From the angle at which she stood, Fujin could see Lu in the kitchen--wrapped in one of the house's blankets, leaning against the stove.  
  
Squall and Nida were nowhere to be found, though Squall's jacket was hanging over the back of one of the wooden chairs. The fur ruff looked as if it had finally dried out--all while still stuck together. Fujin chuckled quietly to herself at the image of Squall going through it with a brush and comb, trying to restore it to its former glory.  
  
Slipping quietly past Lu to the back door, she glanced out into the garden. Nida and Squall were there, engaged in what looked to be a lively debate over something or other--probably either mission orders or logistics, Fujin guessed. Whatever it was, it looked like they had been arguing it for a while now--and would probably continue for some time. She slipped back into the living room--and from there, after only a brief hesitation, into the bedroom.  
  
Taiga was lying on the bed, sprawled haphazardly across the bare mattress. His wounded side was clogging up with some kind of white ichor--something the exoskeleton secreted, Fujin identified. Some kind of biological sealant. Taiga would probably be hungry once he woke up, if the suit had needed to synthesize that much of it.  
  
Shutting the door carefully behind her, he approached the bedside. "FATHER," she said, standing carefully far enough away not to run the risk of being counted a threat. "MORNING."  
  
Taiga didn't move.  
  
Fujin frowned. Taiga was notoriously easy to wake up--all cyborgs were. The ICI regulated sleep, and the ICI was what kept a constant tab on the environment--if the ICI noticed a significant change, it would respond by waking up the host body. In any circumstance that Fujin could think of, being hailed would count as a significant change.  
  
...then again, she rationalized, the ICI was probably not programmed to recognized "father" as a hail directed toward the host.  
  
"TAIGA," she tried--and then, when that didn't work, "TAIGA C1128513."  
  
Nothing.  
  
Distressed now, Fujin took a step closer to the bed and rolled Taiga onto his back. He didn't react at all--he just rolled, limp.  
  
Fujin had studied hard at Garden. She knew the steps to go through when a person was unconscious and unresponsive--but she had to struggle to remember them as they fought through the haze of disbelief and panic that was swelling in her mind.  
  
Very carefully, she lifted Taiga's chin and felt for breathing--it was there, weak and slow, but present. His pulse was the same.  
  
Feeling her own breath and pulse rates rise, Fujin skirted around the bed to examine Taiga's side. The wound had been cleaned out fairly well--there were no remaining shards of armor that would provide complications in the healing, and there was no discoloration in the sealant.  
  
Snaking a hand under Taiga's neck, Fujin felt carefully for any break in the shunts and wires that lead into the spinal cord. As far as she could tell, there wee none.  
  
Limited knowledge of cyborg medical procedure exhausted, Fujin could only stand and stare as she wondered what to do.  
  
It took her almost a minute to come up with the option _get help_, and almost a minute more before her body would agree with her brain and carry her back into the living room.  
  
Raijin woke up when she kicked him in the ribs, harder than she usually intended to. He spluttered something unintelligible--then froze when he looked up at Fujin. For a moment they stared at each other--Fujin's face reading an incredible harried concern and Raijin's reading a muddled confusion--and then Fujin turned and rushed off without saying anything.  
  
"H-hey!" Raijin scrambled to his feet, staring after her. "Fuj'? Hey--Fuj?"  
  
Fujin had already made her way into the kitchen and had woken Lu--a more plausible source of help--abruptly by taking the blanket and tearing it away from her with the speed of panic. Lu jumped--doubly startled when she saw Fujin. "Wh--what?"  
  
"TAIGA," Fujin managed, too flustered to really manage anything coherent. "NOT SLEEPING--ICI--"  
  
Lu struggled to her feet, still blinking sleep out of her eyes. Picking up only the generalities of what Fujin was saying, she headed toward the bedroom.  
  
They passed through the living room, in which Seifer was being awoken by the ambient confusion. He seemed about to demand to know what the hell was going on--but, upon noticing Fujin's expression as she hurried after Lu, he quickly decided that _hell_ wouldn't be a strong enough intensifier and opted for following them instead. Raijin lumbered after them, looking fairly useless and feeling even more so.  
  
By the time they got into the bedroom Fujin had already explained to Lu in a mix of sentence fragments and unaccompanied verbs the problem, and Lu had sighed and shaken her head. "I've heard of this status," she said, motioning vaguely toward Taiga's form. "He's shut down--it's something that happens if a cyborg's been too badly damaged. They just go blank and don't do anything--it's to conserve energy until they can be recovered. There's nothing we can do unless we get him back to a cybernetics facility. It's a critical condition--"  
  
"_NO!_"  
  
Everyone in the room jumped. Fujin had pulled herself up to her full height----a height which looked inestimably more impressive when accompanied by the burning glare she was bestowing upon Lu.  
  
"Anyev, it's--I'm not saying--" Lu began.  
  
"NO! _UNACCEPTABLE!"_ Fujin gestured, very nearly ramming her hand into the wall behind her. With the force of the vehemence she poured into her protest, it was likely that _had_ she hit the wall she would be nursing several broken bones. "NOT CRITICAL. _REPAIR_!"  
  
Lu backed into a wall, concentrating more on getting away from that _look_ than where she was going. "How am I--I know _nothing_ about cybernetics! I can't _do_ anything!"  
  
Fujin was about to retort when the door slammed open again, admitting Nida and Squall--who had, evidently, heard the commotion from outside the house. "What's going on?" Nida demanded.  
  
There was an explosion of noise as Lu, Raijin, and Fujin all tried to inform him at the same time. Nida waved his hands in the air, trying to inspire order and failing. Eventually, Squall drew his gunblade and fired a shot directly at the floor. Silence descended--if not immediately, then very quickly.  
  
Nida put his hands down, glancing around the room in a vain hope of figuring out who would be able to give him the most information in the most logical fashion. Finally, with a groan, he settled on Fujin. "What's happening?"  
  
"TAIGA," she snapped. "SHUTDOWN. NO RESPONSE. CANNOT REVIVE."  
  
Nida nodded, making his way to the bedside. "Step _back_, will you? You're taking all of the oxygen."  
  
Everyone in the room stepped back--as much as they could. The room wasn't exactly spacious to begin with, and cramming seven people into it hardly made it seem larger. Only Fujin refused to move--and, after glancing at her expression, Nida decided that _trying_ to move her would be a losing battle. After checking Taiga's vitals, he nodded judiciously,  
  
"This is on the mechanical side and not the biological side," he stated. "We'll--excuse the term. We'll reboot the mechanics, and that should wake him up."  
  
"Reboot?" Lu wasn't convinced. "How do you plan on doing _that_?"  
  
Nida backed up. "Like this," he said, and cast Thunder directly onto the bed.  
  
Three things happened in some semblance of unison.  
  
Everyone in the room, except Nida, flinched at the sudden blast of light and heat.  
  
Fujin lunged at Nida, putting him into a wall with an unpleasant amount of force--  
  
--and Taiga convulsed, hands flying to his face and doing nothing to cut out the feral scream that ripped out of his throat and lasted, wounding the air, the better part of a minute.  
  
Fujin let go of Nida, approaching the bedside carefully. Nida turned and slunk out of the room, going largely unnoticed by everyone else.  
  
Taiga dropped his hands, noticing for the first time the audience he seemed to have acquired. He was pale and clearly shocked--he couldn't muster up the will or the wit to say anything, only staring with an expression akin to terror.  
  
Squall turned and walked out just as Taiga lost his composure completely, collapsing sideways into Fujin and swallowing sobs. Raijin muttered something awkward, and rushed out after him. Lu glanced away, clearly embarrassed before she exited the room. Only Seifer stayed to watch the scene--unfolding before him, but oblivious to him. He watched for quite some time.

-

When Seifer finally stepped out of the bedroom, the living room was deathly quiet. Nida was staring up at the ceiling, looking rather preoccupied. Squall was sitting on the couch, taking far more care than was necessary to clean imaginary spots off of his gunblade, and Raijin was fidgeting in the corner. Lu was nowhere to be seen--presumably in the kitchen or the yard.  
  
Seifer cleared his throat. "The thing that bothers me," he said matter-of-factly, "is that Fujin ran off without saying anything to me. She should have known that we were a _posse_, and I would have followed her anywhere _anyway_."  
  
No one in the room responded. Nida glanced at him and Raijin nodded uncomfortably, but Squall continued to clean his gunblade with a focus that bordered on singled-mindedness. Seifer glared at him for a moment before continuing.  
  
"So I think if she's going to take Tai--her _father_ back to Esthar, it should be pretty clear that I'm going, too. This is important to her, so the _posse_ will make sure it gets done. ...get it?"  
  
Squall nodded. "Understood," he said.  
  
There was a silence that Seifer read as tense, but Squall seemed totally unconcerned toward. "..._and?_" Seifer prompted.  
  
Squall paused in his cleaning, then carefully folded the cloth and slipped it back into his pack. "Naturally, we'll accompany you," he said.  
  
Seifer stared. "...that's _it_?"  
  
Squall finally deigned to glance up. "There's a terminal at Lesser Kay. We'll contact Garden from there and inform Cid of our situation."  
  
There was a moment that Seifer couldn't help but read as a standoff.  
  
Squall glanced down at his gunblade again, pulling the whetstone out of its pocket on the sheath and carefully sharpening the edge. It was clear that, from _his _perspective, at least, the conversation was over.  
  
On some level, at least, Seifer was aware that he had--_somehow_--gained a concession from Squall without even trying. And, even though he was pretty sure he should be counting this as a good thing, there was something odd about Squall's sudden agreeability that had no idea how to read.  
  
He had had his fill of things he didn't know how to read on this trip, and his mood was already souring at the thought of any more.  
  
With mixed feelings, he stepped outside. His side hurt spectacularly, he was on a totally different continent than he wanted to be, and he had to put up with a crew whose purpose in the world seemed to be making _his_ life more complicated than necessary. There wasn't much that could make him look on the situation as generally favorable--but at the very least, he reasoned, he could go get some fresh air.  
  
And at least it wasn't raining, any more. 


	30. Return

_Silence._  
  
Taiga wasn't used to silence. He was used to noise--conversations and arguments, the measured confusion of the barracks, the systematic sounds of missions, the meaningless background of day-to-day life. He was used to picking up everything--from the wind as it moved across whatever region his mission fell in to the animal life around to the almost inaudible movements of the enemy--whoever or _where_ver they might be. And he was used to the ICI.  
  
But the ICI hadn't said a word--not since the brief garble it had spat at him upon being awakened. And with both hands clamped resolutely over his ears, both eyes squeezed shut and tight as they would close, and hardly any exposed skin anywhere on his body to register even something as subtle as the movement of the air--  
  
Taiga was holding on as hard as he could, wondering if the world would still be there when he opened his eyes. It felt as if it wasn't there _now_--and it might not be. He didn't know which possibility he was rooting for.  
  
It wasn't hard for Taiga to admit that he was terrified. There was no cyborg in Esthar that couldn't imagine terror--being a cyborg meant going through more terror than most people would ever have to face. It meant going to sleep one night and waking up the next morning a different person--a person who could look into the mirror any given morning afterward and easily believe themselves to be more machine than human. Esthar knew that--Esthar encouraged that. Cyborgs were the most powerful division of standard army--the most terrifying opponent a soldier could see, face-to-face. Cyborgs were meant to act the part. They were meant to _believe_ they were more than human.  
  
They were _meant_ to, but not all of them did.  
  
Estharan military psychologists recognized three camps of thought in the cybernetic corps--the idea that the implants made them super-human and thus _above_ the rest of humanity, the thought that the implants _robbed_ them of their humanity, and the blind, unreasoning fear of the implants that was to be weeded out and eliminated through systematic reconditioning. Taiga fell uncomfortably into a fourth, unrecognized school of thought--a firm stand on his own, unalienable humanity.  
  
The few times that he had been assigned to a psych, Taiga had been grouped hastily with those who felt that the implants had made them somewhat less than what they were--and he had been ignored. After all, in war, even perceived inhumanity had its uses.  
  
Sitting on the edge of the bed, trying desperately to block out the world, Taiga couldn't help but feel that the problem would be much easier now. There was no question of it.  
  
The ICI, some not-so-small part of his brain told him, had tried to _kill_ him. And it would continue to do so--to bring him back to the unit, to drive him insane, or to shut him down. It wasn't picky--and it was persistent, and implacable, and inescapable. And Taiga couldn't help but realize that _anything_ he did to block out the world would be futile in the end--it would only lock himself in with that damned chip, waiting in mute anticipation for the moment it would choose to act.  
  
He shut the world out, anyway. Even if it didn't help--even if it was as close to an admission of defeat as he had ever come--at least it was something to do.  
  
-  
  
"Lesser Kay."  
  
Lu sounded as if she was putting forth the cure for cancer. She nodded decisively in the direction of the northern shore, one hand on her hip as if she didn't expect that _anyone_ could object to what she was saying. The sunlight was framing her against the distant horizon, and if she didn't _know_ how theatrical the day was, then she was certainly proving a bit too natural at manipulating the mood. It was enough to make Seifer want to object, on principle.  
  
By the time he had even thought about coming up with reasonable grounds for an objection, Squall had picked up the thread of conversation. "There's a terminal at Lesser Kay that's used for scientific discourse--it has the range to reach Balamb Garden."  
  
"And the Estharan Science Oversight Commission." Lu nodded again. "The ESOC will be all too willing to dispatch someone to pick us up from Lesser Kay--once I speak to the Commissioner. I'm certain I can get him to lend us the ear of Dr. Ralo."  
  
Fujin hadn't yet been sold on the idea, and it didn't look like she was becoming any more convinced. "RALO?"  
  
"The ESOC splits up its jurisdiction into three areas," Lu explained. "Dr. Guissen oversees the natural sciences, Dr. Odine looks over the paramagical sciences, and Dr. Dy Ralo takes care of the technological side of things. He'd know who to talk to in Cybernetics." Lu glanced across the group. "Of course, our problems don't end there. As a soldier, Taiga's technically under the jurisdiction of the Esthar Army. Ralo should have authority to request for him to be transferred over to her jurisdiction, but she'll have to exert some muscle. Taiga is a deserter, after all--"  
  
Fujin was glaring.  
  
"--and suspected of Hyne knows what, on the side," Lu finished. Steeling herself, she met Fujin's gaze. "Anyev, you're the only leverage we have. You're his extenuating circumstance. I can't imagine what all they'll do to test the... _validity_ of our claims, but I can guarantee that there will be plenty of tests."  
  
Fujin nodded. "UNDERSTOOD."  
  
Lu forced a smile, tapping a couple of fingers on her healing ribs and looking sympathetically at Seifer. "It's a good day's walk to Lesser Kay, if we don't push ourselves."  
  
Seifer grumbled. "I can walk. I don't need to be _coddled_."  
  
"Good to know I'm losing my touch."  
  
Everyone turned.  
  
Taiga was making his way out of the house--standing only shakily. One hand was on the doorframe, and he was doing his best to _look_ a good deal more cheerful than anyone could see he actually _was_.  
  
"I think _I_ could use a bit of a break from the old forced-march, in any case," he continued, eyeing the muddy ground suspiciously and not stepping away from his support. "Though I guess it's decided, at this point. We're going to Esthar."  
  
Lu looked alarmed. "We--well. I guess I didn't think to--"  
  
"No--no, it's all right." Taiga closed his eyes. "You need to go back. You've been out here too long. I can only imagine what your _son_ must be thinking...."  
  
Lu flinched. "Taiga, don't--I'm not doing this for _me_."  
  
"Then let _me_." Taiga pushed himself away from the doorframe. "I'll take you back to Esthar, Lu, and I'll tag along because--"  
  
He paused, looking down with a small smile. Lu waited for him to continue--but soon, it seemed as if he wouldn't without some sort of prompting. "Because?"  
  
"It's funny," Taiga remarked, mostly to himself. "I came out here because I didn't think I could go back. Now I'm going back because I know I can't stay here."  
  
Fujin extricated herself from the rough circle, moving swiftly over to Taiga's side. "_Father--"_  
  
Taiga put a hand on her shoulder, trying to give her a reassuring smile. "No one came here with too much baggage," he said, being ironic and neither intending nor realizing it. "I guess we should just start walking."  
  
"Taiga--" Lu began.  
  
"It's all right." Taiga held onto Fujin's shoulder, smiling in his none-too-convincing way. "Sooner started, sooner over. Let's go."  
  
Lu still hesitated. "That's--I mean, if--"  
  
"Let's go." Taiga suppressed a shudder, forcing his smile further than it wanted to go. Slipping his arm around Fujin's shoulder, he steered her toward the horizon. "Here--get what you need to, and catch up. I'm just going to start walking."  
  
Fujin smiled, slipping her arm around Taiga's waist to support him. Lu stared at them both. "Why--?"  
  
Taiga's smile shed its facade to present its true colors--he grimaced, looking steadily away from the house. "Because long goodbyes are hell," he said softly, "and if I don't leave now, I'm never going to convince myself to. ...let's go."  
  
Still leaning heavily on Fujin for support, Taiga closed his eyes and took the first step of the journey back toward Esthar.  
  
Toward the unit.  
  
_...home._


	31. Lesser Kay

Lesser Kay, like almost every Centran town ever established, was small, run-down, and really rather rustic. It was cobbled together in a manner only slightly less haphazard than most, with a fairly well-planned dock and a serviceable warehouse district--both of which saw frequent use as military and science personnel stopped over in the town on their way to wherever they needed to go.  
  
It was the first time that Taiga had been near an actual settlement since he had defected--and he wasn't at all sure he wanted to be near this one. So, after a brief conversation, they had agreed that Taiga would wait outside the town until Lu came to get him. Where Taiga went, of course, Fujin would follow--so she had stayed, prompting Raijin and Seifer to stay put, as well. Squall had frowned over this state of affairs for a while, then ordered Nida to remain with them--what purpose he was serving there, Nida wasn't sure. And so, when all the confusion had passed, it ended up that only Lu and Squall would actually be going into town, and _neither_ of them were quite sure how to react to that. In the end, Squall just demanded to know where the terminal was and stalked off on his own.  
  
The Terminal was a low, circular building near the centre of town. It was free-access, maintained by docking fees and local taxes. Inside were about thirty free-standing computers, all connected to the Estharan main data network.  
  
At the moment, about three of them seemed to be in use.  
  
Squall took one situated far enough from everyone else in the room so as to be comfortable, keyed in the information for Balamb Garden, and hoped that someone on the other end would be watching for a signal. Knowing his luck, they wouldn't be.  
  
The **SENDING** light in the corner blinked steadily for some time--almost a minute later, the B-Garden logo blinked onto the screen. After a few seconds it disappeared, to be replaced by Xu's face.  
  
Xu seemed rather surprised to see him.  
  
_"Squall!"_ Her voice, coming through the small speakers, was soft and tinny. _"It's been quite a while since we heard from you. What's going on? Quistis said you had gotten on a train to Timber--"_  
  
"We were able to make contact with Seifer in Timber," Squall said, unconsciously lowering his voice in the quiet Terminal. "but we had to pursue Fujin and Raijin into Lower Centra. We're in a town called Lower Kay in the Hope-Kay Lowlands at the moment--"  
  
_"I'll dispatch a transport to pick you up," _Xu offered.  
  
"There are some... unusual circumstances that you may need to be aware of," Squall began.  
  
_"Oh?"_  
  
Squall nodded, trying to organize what he knew into a form that might be halfway coherent. This was going to be one of the most interesting reports Xu was going to hear in a long, long time.

-

When Lu walked into the Terminal, she glanced over to see Squall already deep in conversation with... whoever it was he had contacted. She didn't know much about SeeD--only what the newscasts had told her when Ultimecia had been defeated--and she had no idea what kind of bureaucracy he would have to wade through or _why_. She figured it might be best just to leave him to whatever he was doing.  
  
Self-consciously adjusting her clothing in the clean facility, she took a booth at random and input her personal identification code and the network information for the bureau she was trying to reach. After a few seconds of redirecting, a stern face appeared on the screen.  
  
_"Field Officer Hali Lu,"_ the man said, reading something off the bottom corner of his screen. _"There's an alert out for you. ...you're in Lesser Kay? Why haven't you contacted the regional police for an escort back?"_  
  
Lu bit her lip. "...I need to contact someone named Jenn Hadai, ESOC Ministry of Observational Research."  
  
The man looked unconvinced. _"Is there something you need to report? Are you in danger? What's--"_  
  
"I'm sorry," Lu said, "but I can't talk to you. I need to speak to Hadai. This--" she frowned, putting on her best Official Business face. "This is of the _utmost_ importance."  
  
The man still looked skeptical, but he nodded. _"I'll see about putting a link through."_  
  
The screen blinked tot he ESOC logo, and Lu rocked back on her heels. This was going to be tricky, if she knew anything about scientific politics.  
  
Hadai appeared sooner than she would have expected, face as open and generous as ever. _"Lu!"_ she exclaimed, doing her absolute best to give the impression that she was grateful to see her. It was very convincing, even though Lu wouldn't let herself be convinced at all. _"I heard you went missing. I hope everything is all right?"_  
  
"Hadai," Lu began, leaning in and dropping her voice. "I need some help, and you're the only one that can help me. Do you feel like it?"  
  
True to form, Hadai pouted a little, and _humm_ed and _haw_ed. _"Lu, you know I have a very tight schedule, and the ESOC is being very demanding with their latest assignments...."_  
  
"I have something that could cement you into the forefront of any field you wanted," Lu said.  
  
Hadai bit off the end of her sentence, looking with sudden shrewdness into the screen. _"What's going on, Lu?"_  
  
Lu took a deep breath. "What would you say if I told you that I had a cyborg and his _biological_ daughter waiting just outside of town?"  
  
Hadai stared. Lu moved in before she had the chance to say anything.  
  
"Let me rephrase that, Jenn. How _fast_ would you get us back to your lab?"

-

Xu was taking the report rather well, Squall noted. Not as well as Cid probably would have--but, then again, Cid would probably have found some _other_ way to make the mission report an ordeal by now.  
  
_"I don't need to tell **you** that this is rather a bizarre turn of events,"_ Xu stated, staring fixedly at the screen and folding her hands together, considering everything she had been told. _"And I wouldn't know where to begin looking for precedent or regulation. But it sounds as if you know what you're doing."_  
  
Squall hadn't intentionally been trying to trick Xu into thinking that, but it seemed as if he had managed to, anyway.  
  
_"I'm a bit concerned about taking Seifer into Esthar, though I suppose your other options might be even more troublesome. If you need, I can talk to Cid about sending in backup--"_  
  
"That shouldn't be necessary." Squall glanced up, noting that Lu seemed to be wrapping up her conversation. "I'll contact you once I arrive in Esthar."  
  
Xu nodded, flashing a quick salute. _"Good luck, Squall."_  
  
Squall returned the salute an instant before the screen went blank.  
  
Stepping away from the console, he glanced around the building. Lu was pushing away from her own panel, looking decidedly uneasy. Squall waited until she approached. She was biting her lower lip, and Squall had a feeling that even if she _wanted_ to hide how uncertain she felt, she wouldn't be able to.  
  
"Is there a problem?"  
  
Lu motioned to the door. "Not here," she said, stepping out. "I mean... I don't know, but let's not talk here."  
  
Squall glanced around. There was no reason to believe that they were being monitored--Lu was probably just being jumpy. Even so, debating tactics would be a waste of energy, and there was no real downside to heading back out to the rest of the group at that moment. Following her out, Squall waited for her to get to whatever point she thought she had.  
  
Lu waited until they were a street away from the Terminal before stepping carefully off the path, glancing up and down the street and managing to be exceptionally overt while trying for the exact opposite. "You're a SeeD," she began, staring at Squall as if trying to convince herself that she wasn't talking to a seventeen-year-old. "And I only know a bit about what that means, but I guess you'll know as much about how to read this as I will."  
  
She was waiting for a response. Carefully not grimacing, Squall said "Go on."  
  
"The woman I talked with, Jenn Hadai, is head of the ESOC Ministry of Observational Research. It's one of... several dozen Ministries that the ESOC maintains, which means that she has no more actual power than... well... a politician--when it comes to the actual world, you know. She can request that someone be dispatched to pick us up, but it's not as if her order carries the weight of anything much behind it. ...what do you think it means when she tells me that she'll have us in her office by the end of three days?"  
  
Squall had been listening with half an ear to most of her exposition. Instead, he had focused most of his attention on watching as six Estharan soldiers turned an inordinate number of heads as they headed out of the town.  
  
"I think we should get back to the group," he said. 


	32. Capture

Taiga was too busy stacking rocks on top of each other to notice when Nida wandered off of his own accord, and no one else seemed to be paying that much attention to Nida, anyway. So it came as a bit of a surprise when Nida snuck back _into_ the group, trying to attract their attention without attracting attention from anyone _else_. "I don't want to scare anyone," he said, "but there are three Esthar soldiers scouring the hills and coming more-or-less in our direction. I wouldn't _think_ they'd be looking for us, but all the same, we might want to move before they see us."  
  
Taiga looked up sharply, scanning the direction Nida indicated. Catching sight of the soldiers, he nodded warily. "Let's move back," he said.  
  
Quietly--as quietly as was possible, under the circumstances--they picked up and snuck off. The only cover in the region came from the low hills and broken bluffs--there was virtually no vegetation in the area, and moving stealthily meant using the lay of the land like experts. Somehow, though, they managed--within a few minutes, they had relocated to just past the crest of a low rise, where they could watch without easily being watched in return.  
  
That was when Fujin noticed a fourth soldier, scouring the land off to their right.  
  
"..._concerning_," was what she whispered, gesturing to him.  
  
"No one we couldn't take," Seifer said, not appearing to share Fujin's concern at all.  
  
"If it's all the same," Taiga retorted, "I'd rather not _take_ anyone. And _don't_ underestimate the Esthar Army."  
  
Seifer snarled, but said nothing.  
  
Something caught Nida's eye, and he glanced past the three soldiers to their left. "Taiga... can you see anything over that way?"  
  
Taiga turned, squinting. "...one more. That brings us up to five. ..._why_, though?"  
  
Nida was still scanning the area. "This isn't adding up," he said.  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"...what're ya thinkin'?" Raijin asked.  
  
"I'm thinking that I want to know if we can trust Lu as far as we could throw her," Nida said, glancing quietly toward Taiga.  
  
Taiga stared, face reflecting how little he liked the implications of that sentence."I--we--_she_--"  
  
"Wouldn't even have to _mean_ it to turn you in. Did you ever say there was a reward on you?" Nida pressed.  
  
Fujin snapped around, glaring daggers at him. "_IRRELEVANT!_" she hissed.  
  
"No," Nida said, "it's _really_ not."  
  
"I--" Taiga shook his head. "I don't think I ever _said_ it, but I--I'm sure there _is_--"  
  
"Then it wouldn't even need to be Lu who turned you in. She could call in for help, and if the person she asked was enough of an opportunist--"  
  
Fujin had undone the cord that kept her shuriken secure, and looked ready to take the head off the first person who looked at her funny.  
  
Taiga was looking decidedly ill.  
  
"Look," Nida hissed, taking the daunting risk of trying to stare Fujin down, "I _agree_ that the possibility really _sucks_--but that doesn't mean it probably isn't right!"  
  
"But that's not the worst part," Taiga whispered. All eyes turned to him.  
  
"...what?" Seifer asked.  
  
"The worst part is that a standard dispatch consists of six soldiers. So... where's the _sixth_ one?"  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
With the absolute certainty of one too used to the fact that the universe will always screw one over in the manner most amusing to it, Nida looked behind them.  
  
The sixth soldier was there, coming in at a wide angle. It was pretty obvious that he had seen them already. On noticing that he had been spotted, he abandoned all attempts at stealth and loped toward them, brandishing his shotel menacingly. "You are to stand down," he called, "under orders of the ESOC. I will escort you to Esthar Proper, where you will be turned over into the custody of Jenn Hadai. If you fail to comply, I will have no choice but the use of force."  
  
Taiga clamped is hands over his ears, closing his eyes an instant after the soldier raised his shotel to menace him with.  
  
As it turned out, it was an instant too late.  
  
**_Taiga C1128513_**, the ICI crackled to life inside him. **_Analysis: Threatened. Analysis: Threatened. Directive: Attack._**  
  


-

  
  
In a place as flat and open as Lesser Kay, on a day as still and dry as it was, a sound like a gunshot could carry for miles.  
  
It didn't _need_ to carry for miles to alert Squall that there was something very, very bad happening, and as soon as he saw the five Esthar soldiers converging on the sound, he took off running to arrive there, too.  
  
The problem came in that the soldiers were both considerably closer _and_ considerably faster than he was.  
  
Lu was following him, though what she intended to do was uncertain. Squall wasn't certain of what _he_ was planning to do, either--only that he should probably be closer than he _was_ in order to do it.  
  
By the time they had come close enough to see the scene, the situation seemed to have deteriorated in ways _neither_ of them could quite make out.  
  
Taiga was on the ground, writhing under the influence of what Squall could only guess was a paramagic spell. Fujin was standing over him, keeping a tight hold on her shuriken--as six soldiers, one whose suit was apparently damaged, kept their shotels trained on anyone that moved.  
  
Squall dropped into a crouch, one hand on the hilt of his gunblade. He briefly considered casting something--long-range, targetable magic, perhaps a Meltdown or something similar--  
  
"That _bastard_," Lu whispered. "That--that _bastard_! She--_HEY!_"  
  
Lu strode toward the soldiers, waving her arms and effectively blowing their cover. Aggravated, Squall stood up and followed her.  
  
One of the soldiers--the damaged one--extricated himself from the mess and approached her. His hand never left the trigger of the shotel. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"  
  
"Hyne in hell, there is." Lu was clearly unhappy. "I'm field officer Hali Lu, and if you're under orders from Hadai then I can't _begin_ to tell you how you've screwed this one up. If you're _not_, then I can only say that you'd better get _away_ from those people unless you want the ESOC coming down on your heads!"  
  
The soldier didn't yield ground. "Ma'am, we're not under _orders_ from anyone in the ESOC. Hadai has very little influence here. We _are_ to escort you and your company back to Esthar Proper. I suggest you not try to resist us."  
  
Lu motioned angrily toward Taiga. "Did he? Is that why you--_what_ did you do to him?"  
  
"We didn't do _anything_!" The man was lying, Lu was sure, but he didn't seem too interested in caring that she noticed. "These are unusual circumstances, we're assured, and that's the only reason he'd going with you to Esthar and not to the nearest military facility. But if you resist--in _any_ way--I can't guarantee that. Get with your friends."  
  
Lu's jaw worked for a moment, and then she glanced down at the man's weapon. It certainly looked as if he would use it, given the slightest provocation. Quietly, she stepped into the rough circle.  
  
The man turned his attention to Squall. "Hand off the weapon," he instructed. Slowly, Squall removed his hand from the gunblade's hilt. A small, meddlesome portion of his brain whispered that he could still cast magic, and that something like Tornado would be especially rewarding right now... but he ignored it. The soldier motioned him to join the group, and Squall did so.  
  
Lu was kneeling by Taiga's side, looking over him carefully. He looked pretty bad, squall decided--his eyes were open wide, and he seemed to be gasping. One hand had clenched in the dust, leaving small trails to where his fingers now rested.  
  
"What did you _do_ to him?" she demanded.  
  
"On your feet," the soldier snapped. "Get him up, too. We're going to the docks."  
  
Lu stood up, facing the man and using her considerable height to tower over him. "I _said_, what did you _do_ to him?"  
  
Only antipathy was written in the soldiers face. "Move it!"  
  
Fujin was keeping a stony silence throughout the affair. For the first time, Squall noticed the red patch that was spreading down the left sleeve of her blue uniform. He glanced toward Nida, inclining his head subtly toward the group of soldiers. Nida caught his meaning, and shook his head. _Best not to engage._  
  
"Hadai is the person you contacted?" he asked Lu, voice low. Lu seemed startled, but nodded--never taking her eyes off the soldier she was confronting.  
  
"Jenn Hadai, the bastard."  
  
"Then it might be better to comply."  
  
Lu balked, turning around. "They--"  
  
"Are doing what you asked them." Squall steeled his tone. "Or would you rather try to fight back?"  
  
Lu tried, for several seconds, to come up with a useful retort. Failing that, she looked resolutely at the ground and took a deep breath.  
  
"...you're guaranteeing our safety?"  
  
"As far as we can, yes." The soldier was still pointing the shotel straight at her, lending a certain amount of unconscious irony to his words.  
  
Lu motioned toward Taiga. "You're guaranteeing _his_ safety," she stressed. "You won't just turn him over to the nearest tribunal. You won't attack him. Nothing like that."  
  
"That's the idea."  
  
Lu glanced back. Squall nodded, trying to impress upon her without saying anything how stupid an idea resisting _now_ would be.  
  
Lu closed her eyes. "I guess," she said, "we have no choice, then. Do we?"


	33. Unrest

The soldiers took them onto a military clipper and threw them into separate quarters, despite protests that came perilously close to escalating into something more. The soldiers had taken Taiga away, presumably to put him in the ship's medical facility and possibly to restrain him. It was made very clear that they were prisoners.  
  
Squall was beginning to wish he had accepted Xu's offer for backup--though, he decided, it likely wouldn't have made much of a difference. In the time it took Garden to get a transport down to Lower Centra, they would be long, long gone.  
  
Throwing his pack into the corner of the room--a small one, with few luxuries other than a hammock and a small, functional water room--Squall couldn't dispel the feeling that he should be trying to escape. It was a pointless complaint, he knew--this was, essentially, what they had wanted to happen, just taking place in a manner that wasn't what they had expected. They were going to Esthar Proper to speak with the scientists, they were going there _quickly_, and the fact that their escort seemed less than inclined to make the trip comfortable for them shouldn't matter a bit.  
  
Even so, they were prisoners--and being _treated _like prisoners--and so the one thing Squall wanted to do more than anything else at that moment was to break out and get away. It didn't make sense, but there it was.  
  
He sat down, instead.  
  
There was nothing that looked to be even remotely entertaining in the cabin, and he had a feeling that, in his current mood, he wouldn't want to read the one book he had brought along--_The Annotated History Of The Early Centran Nation-States._ History wasn't a good diversion from imprisonment, especially since the Centran kings were the ones who had come up with over sixteen different words for _prison_.  
  
His gunblade was in excellent working condition, but that had absolutely no bearing on his decision to take it apart and clean the components. It was something to do, after all--something that would keep him from using a Demi on the door, walking out into the hall, and decapitating people until he was sure he wasn't going to be locked up again.  
  
Things were just beginning to go _right_ on the mission--that was what he kept telling himself. Mostly, it was to rid himself of the impression that things were going so very, very _wrong_.

-

Fujin was pacing.  
  
there was _nothing_ about this turn of events that she liked--not Lu's solution to things, not the soldiers, not the clipper, not Hadai's way of taking the initiative, and _especially_ not Taiga's recent--whatever it had been. She was hesitant to call it a malfunction, but there wasn't much else she _could_ name it.  
  
If it had been anyone else, the answer wouldn't have been that difficult. He had lunged toward one of the soldiers, and tripped. With his hurt side, it made sense that he would be winded.  
  
Except that cyborgs didn't _trip_. Cyborgs didn't get _winded_. The soldier should have been dead and Taiga should have been riddled with bullets from the _other_ five and while she was glad that he wasn't, she wasn't glad that his salvation had come in the manner it did.  
  
She needed to see him, and the soldiers weren't allowing that. And now she was locked in a room, pacing like a caged animal.  
  
There was one thing, and one thing only, that kept her from doing her damnedest to break out and murder the first five soldiers she found. And that was Taiga's well-being--because, much as she didn't trust their captors, she was well aware that whatever they planned on doing placed more value on a Taiga who was alive and somewhat well than a Taiga who wasn't either.  
  
Her cabin had no windows, no clock, and no way to estimate how long they'd been traveling, where they were, or when they would arrive. She had been waiting a lot on this trip, in some vehicle or other, but nothing had been as unbearable as this.

-

Nida flopped into a chair, resigned to a long, long ride full of boredom and suspicion. From his end, at least, it seemed as if the soldiers were as confused by Taiga's company and apparent malfunction as anyone else was, and he could almost pity them.  
  
_Almost_. As Nida wasn't too interested in developing a psychotic condition, he decided he would take the time to make sure he didn't work up _too_ many sympathetic attitudes toward his captors.  
  
Not expecting any response, Nida tapped out a CQD on the wall with his knuckle. When that elicited no response, he tapped out an SOS. Silence greeted that, too, so he started tapping out the prime numbers. He got halfway through thirteen before a loud _thump_ on the other end suggested that me might have broken something. He stopped pretty quickly.  
  
Slinging his feet up on the hammock, he started counting the rivets on the ceiling. There were quite a few of them--though probably not enough to last him to Esthar.  
  
He sighed. He could always count slower, he reasoned.

-

Seifer was annoyed, his side was aching, and his foot hurt. He was annoyed for the same reasons everyone else on the ship seemed to be annoyed, his side ached because his ribs had still not healed, and his foot hurt because when he had kicked his cabin wall to get rid of the annoying _tapping_ sound coming from it, he had kicked it a _bit_ too hard.  
  
The first few minutes of his incarceration had been taken up with trying to open the door, culminating in a rather painful attempt to ram Hyperion into the door seam. Even if it _had_ looked to be effective, his side was letting him know in no uncertain terms that it wasn't going to stand for another attempt.  
  
Sitting heavily on the hammock--and regretting it instantly as his torso bent in _just the right way_ to put pressure on his ribs--he wondered if there would be any way to contact his posse. There probably wasn't.  
  
He stared at the ceiling. So far, he wasn't enjoying the hospitality of the Esthar military, and was beginning to reconsider the logic of walking directly into the capital city of a nation that he had done significant damage to. If this was an armed escort, he didn't _want_ to see what happened to actual war criminals.  
  
It was an unpleasant thought to begin an unpleasant journey with.

-

Lu crouched on the floor, back to the wall. She wasn't sure whether to feel terrible about the situation or enraged with it, and so she managed it by feeling both in succession. She was going to have words with Hadai, that was for sure--sending _soldiers_ after them? With Taiga's... malfunction... who _knew_ what could have happened?  
  
...then again, Hadai would have had no way of knowing that. She would have no reason to even _suspect_ it would have been this much of a problem.  
  
What had happened to Taiga was anyone's guess--she certainly didn't know. But it worried her, and she couldn't fight a cold feeling of dread.  
  
At least they were going to get back to Esthar in record time.  
  
That might have been a silver lining, but it was certainly a pale one from _her_ point of view.

-

Raijin looked around his room and, seeing no other option readily available, climbed into the hammock and fell asleep. 


	34. Aberrations

_Silence...._  
  
Taiga woke up, if one could _call_ it waking up, to find himself strapped down in the medical bay of a military vessel. His vision was fogging over, and he couldn't escape a slight sense of disorientation. It took him longer than he would have preferred to figure out what was going on--he had been _drugged_.  
  
...which was ridiculous. No one went to the bother of drugging a cyborg--the various implants would filter the chemicals out of their system almost immediately. Any Esthar soldier should know that.  
  
Then again....  
  
Taiga shook his head, blinking. The fog wasn't clearing.  
  
He closed his eyes. "Directive," he mumbled. "ICI Diagnostic."  
  
**_Diagnostic error,_** came the disheartening reply. **_Attempting to re-initialize data path._**  
  
"Query," he tried. "Define _insanity_."  
  
**_A persistent aberration from typical mental functions._**  
  
"Query. Define _typical_."  
  
**_Exhibiting traits or qualities characteristic of or identifying a specific category._**  
  
"Query."  
  
**_Query accepted._**  
  
"Recall previous two queries, disregard the second."  
  
**_Stored in memory._**  
  
"Analyze host."  
  
There was a pause, the brief flutter of memories a familiar sensation in the back of his mind.  
  
**_Analysis complete. Symptoms found. Further analysis recommended._**  
  
He smiled. "Query."  
  
**_Query accepted._**  
  
"Access query logs. Enumerate occurrences of similar queries regarding insanity."  
  
**_Specify parameters for similarity._**  
  
"Identical query, results stating symptoms found."  
  
There was a pause. **_41 similar queries found._**  
  
"Time elapsed since first similar query?"  
  
**_Six years, twenty-eight days, eighteen hours._**  
  
"Is it possible for someone to be insane that long and never think for a moment that they were?"  
  
There was another pause. **_Query not recognized._**  
  
Taiga sighed. "Overview?"  
  
**_Taiga C1128513. Analysis: Uncertain. Directive: Disregard. Status: Damaged. Directive: Repair. Energy: Depleted. Directive: Feed. Location: Great Esthar Bay. Directive:_**  
  
There was silence.  
  
"...directive?"  
  
**_Directive accepted._**  
  
"No. I mean--what is my directive?"  
  
**_Query not recognized._**  
  
Taiga opened his eyes--only to see the same fog--if anything, worse now than it had been before. He quickly closed them again. "_Location_."  
  
**_Location: Great Esthar Bay. Directive:_**  
  
Silence again.  
  
Taiga's hands clenched on nothing. "Status!"  
  
**_Status: Damaged. Directive: Repair._**  
  
_You don't believe that any more than I do, you tinny bastard--_ "Status! _Status_!"  
  
**_Status: Damaged. Directive: Repair._**  
  
Taiga opened his eyes again, concentrating with all his might on clearing the fog that so stubbornly hovered in front of him. "Query. Define _insanity_."  
  
**_A persistent aberration from typical mental functions._**  
  
"Query. Analyze _ICI_."  
  
Silence. Then, finally, **_ Query not applicable._**  
  
"I'm beginning to think _I'm_ not the one going insane," Taiga said--and then laughed, even though it wasn't funny. "It's the voice in my head! _That's_ the insane one!"  
  
The ICI had nothing to say to that.  
  
Had he been paying attention, he might have noticed that the ship had come to rest a few minutes ago. Instead, he didn't register it until the door to the medical bay opened and a Solder stepped in.  
  
"Can you walk?" was the first thing he said.  
  
Taiga looked in his general direction--he was an indistinct blur, with a faint haze around the edges. "Can I walk? Do I _look_ like I can walk?"  
  
"You look like you're a cyborg," the man said.  
  
"You'd be surprised how much that doesn't count for anything," Taiga retorted.  
  
"Are you saying _yes,_ you can, or _no_, you can't?" the soldier asked. It was clear in his tone that he was running out of patience.  
  
"Do I _look_ like I've tried to stand up in the last few minutes?" Taiga shot back, just as angrily.  
  
The soldier was about to retort, but bit his tongue. Approaching warily, he undid the restraints and stepped back.  
  
Taiga sat up slowly. There was a mild sense of dizziness, but not debilitating. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up all the way.  
  
And very nearly fell over.  
  
The soldier caught his arm to steady him, and Taiga put his other hand out for balance.  
  
The soldier sighed, keeping his grip on Taiga's arm. "We'll get you to Hadai's lab," he said. "Come with me."

-

As it turned out, Taiga was the last one off the boat.  
  
Everyone was waiting for him as he came stumbling out, He mumbled something about being sorry to keep them waiting before he realized how ridiculous it sounded--he had gotten them all arrested and dragged to Esthar under armed guard, and he was sorry to keep them _waiting_? He chalked it up to the ICI and his disorientation, and shrugged it off.  
  
As soon as he had stepped off the gangplank and onto solid ground, Fujin rushed to his side to help him. The movement evidently looked like a charge--the soldier escorting Taiga dropped his arm and leveled his shotel at Fujin. Once it was apparent she wasn't going to attack him, however, he dropped it with an aggravated curse.  
  
Taking the initiative, Raijin stepped up to support Taiga's other side--very nearly lifting him off the ground as he did so. The soldiers glanced at each other, and one motioned to the land transport waiting for them. "We'll ride into the city, then take the skyway to the Lab District, and then walk. Come on."  
  
No one seemed inclined to make further conversation as they stepped onto the transport--least of all Taiga. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned against whatever seemed most solid--hoping that the drugs the ICI wouldn't take care of would wear off on their own. He was quiet when he had to open his eyes to step off the transport to wait for a skyway car, quiet when they had to wait through three to commandeer an empty one, and quiet as they shot through the translucent tubes toward their destination.  
  
They were attracting quite a number of glances, now, from everyone they passed by--it wasn't usual to see anyone under such heavy guard rocketing through the city. In the presence of the meticulously clean Esthar streets and the ubiquitously pressed and proper Esthar robes, the travel-worn group was certainly an aberration.  
  
They stepped off in the Lab District amid stares that not everyone bothered to conceal. One of the soldiers checked something on a small map, and motioned them off down a side street. Hadai's lab wasn't far away--it only took a few blocks to arrive there, standing under the ESOC logo and the smaller _Ministry of Observational Research_ label below it.  
  
The lead soldier walked up to the door, hit the intercom button, and carried on a quick conversation with the person on the other side. After a slight delay, the main door slid open to reveal a short woman in Esthar robes, with a badge of authority on her left shoulder.  
  
Jenn Hadai smiled at them as if they had come bearing gifts.  
  
"Men," she said, addressing the soldiers, "the ESOC extends its warmest thanks. You're dismissed, now. And as for you--" she turned to the ragged company, eyes skipping over them all and registering everything, "come in. I know we'll have a _lot_ to discuss." 


	35. Hadai

Hadai's lab was three stories--a main level, a second floor, and a basement. The main floor seemed to be mostly taken up by a large central lobby and several small research/conference rooms. The second floor was visible from the first; it was accessible by lift, and had a railed balcony circling the lobby area. From what could be seen, it looked as if it was mostly office space and computer labs. That left the basement to be used for actual laboratory space--of which, Taiga was sure, there had to be a significant amount of.  
  
Introductions having been taken care of, Hadai motioned them all to take seats--the couches and chairs in the lobby were set up in a rough oval, a long table standing at the center. "It's early in the day, yet, so there aren't many people around," she apologized, "but once the interns get here, one of them will see to getting you food, drink... possibly a change of clothing." She glanced at Lu, eyes suggesting that it was more of a light-hearted jab than it had come out as. "In the mean time, we should talk a bit about what's going on."  
  
"Well--" Lu began.  
  
"...maybe I should handle this," Taiga interrupted, leaning forward. He felt less disoriented, now--but much more awkward. "I... think it should be pretty obvious that I'm a cyborg."  
  
"That much I had gleaned," Hadai said.  
  
"There have been... unusual circumstances," Taiga continued, "and they've been causing me a good deal of trouble. For one thing, I... I think that in the last few days my ICI has begun to malfunction. In addition, there's been some talk of...." He trailed off, glancing away as if he was about to admit to some heinous crime. "...removing the implants."  
  
If Hadai was shocked or affronted by his lack of fealty, she didn't express it. "Well. Those both sound like military issues."  
  
"The military has never been interested in helping cyborgs live a good life," Taiga said. "And I'm... not exactly on their promotion list, at the moment."  
  
"All right. Assuming the Military is unwilling or unable to help, then fine. But Lu--" Hadai leaned forward earnestly. "Both you and I work in the natural sciences. Why not contact someone in technological?"  
  
"Because I don't _know_ anyone in technological," Lu said. "...and because we need proof of something--proof we can show to anyone who asks."  
  
Hadai glanced over them, settling on Fujin. "Proof of biological parentage."  
  
Lu nodded. "Yes."  
  
Hadai stood up, motioning grandly to the lift. "Well. Mr. Taiga Agiat, and Ms. Anyev Agiat, if you'll accompany me to my lab, the actual test should only take a few minutes. Then I'll write up something nice and formal and put the stamp of the Ministry on it. I'll need to know the details of how this... rather unusual occurrence came to pass, your implant history--which I imagine I can request from the military--and we'll be able to prove to anyone who asks that you're a phenomenon." She watched for a moment longer, expression shrewd. "I did some checking on you, you know. Taiga C1128513, cybernetics unit J16. Wanted for desertion. Wanted for _murder_. Now... I'm not going to ask any questions--questions like _that_, at _this_ time, can only get in the way of science.but we're going to have to get you some Esthar robes, and we're going to have to get you cleaned up, because when we're done here you'll be walking across the city to the Odine Institute to find Dr. Ralo. Odine, Ralo, and Guissen are the only ones who can snatch you out of the military's hands--don't tell the soldiers, but I was stretching my authority just getting you up here. The Institute is near the Presidential Palace, so you can bet anything that there will be guards aplenty."  
  
"Is there some problem with contacting Ralo from here?" Lu asked.  
  
If you ever have to contact Ralo, make sure to speak to her face-to-face." Hadai smiled. "She's receptive to personable people, and it's hard to be personable over a hard cable. Taiga, Anyev, come along. The rest of you... make yourselves at home. My interns should be arriving any time. Feel free to use the computer banks and libraries on this level _only_."  
  
Taiga glanced to the rest of the party, forced an encouraging grin, and followed Hadai. Wordlessly, Fujin followed after.  
  
Squall stood up, hiking a thumb back at one of the computer rooms. "I'm going to update Xu on our situation," he said, and walked off.  
  
Lu, Raijin, Nida, and Seifer were left sitting in the lobby, each of them feeling slightly awkward with nothing to discuss.  
  
At length, Raijin cleared his throat. "So, like, we were gonna decide on a name for Seifer, ya know?"  
  
Seifer groaned and rolled his eyes.  
  
Lu thought for a moment. "Alman Seima."  
  
Seifer looked over. "...the _hell_."  
  
"It's a good northeast Esthar name."  
  
"Why do I _want_ a good northeast Esthar name?"  
  
Lu gestured wryly to his hair. "Because you're not going to convince _anyone_ you're from the southwest. You have _Foreigner_ written all over you in big, blond letters."  
  
Seifer glared daggers at Lu with enough force to vivisect her. Unfortunately, having seen Taiga angry, Lu was no longer in a position to be intimidated by anyone who didn't seem immediately capable of reducing her to a smear along a cliff face, and simply smiled back.  
  
The door opened, and a young man in assistant's robes walked in--and paused when he saw them. "...oh," he said, a bit self-consciously. "...are you guests of Dr. Hadai?"  
  
Lu nodded agreeably back. "We are. Are you one of the interns?"  
  
The man nodded. "Shan Zhel," he introduced himself. "Can I do anything for you?"  
  
"Hadai said you'd be able to get us something to drink--and if you could find me a clean robe to wear, I'd be _exceptionally_ grateful. Field officer, tall fourteen?"  
  
Shan nodded. "I'll see what I can do."  
  
"Hadai may need you downstairs when you're done," Lu suggested.  
  
"I'll talk to her."  
  
"And if you could find us a deck of cards?" Nida tossed in. "That'd be cool, too."  
  
The intern looked at him strangely for a moment, then hurried off.  
  
Nida cast a glance off in the direction of the computer lab. "This is either one hell of an update, of Squall's found something boring to entertain himself with," he guessed. No one seemed to find it funny--which was forgivable, given that he didn't find it all that funny himself.  
  
There was a bored silence until the intern came back.  
  
"Here you go," he said, handing a folded robe to Lu. "The bathroom is just down the hall between conference rooms C and D. There are drink dispensers in any of the conference rooms--they should be on, now."  
  
Almost as an afterthought, he tossed a deck of cards onto the table in front of Nida before heading for the lift.  
  
Nida picked the deck up, flipping open the lid and taking them out. "What, the--these are _poker_ cards!"  
  
Lu looked at him strangely as she stood up. "You asked for cards."  
  
Nida was already shuffling. "In Balamb," he said, "if you ask anyone for cards, they assume you mean _Triple Triad_ cards."  
  
Lu shrugged. "What a backwards place your Garden must be," she jibed, and walked off.  
  
Nida sighed. "...anyone up for a game of War?"


	36. Complications

Despite Hadai's assurance that it would only be a few minutes to run the tests, it was slightly over two hours later that Fujin and Taiga returned up the lift. By now there was a nearly-constant bustle of interns on the second floor, most of them paying little or not attention to the group of guests in the lobby.  
  
Taiga was adjusting and re-adjusting a set of robes--he looked decidedly uncomfortable. Fujin was holding what looked to be a report on official letterhead. Squall was still sitting in the computer lab--whether he was browsing scientific journals, hacking into the Estharan Defense Oversight Commission, or simply dead was anybody's guess.  
  
"How did it go?" Lu asked.  
  
Taiga glanced up, smiling thinly. "I have a headache to end all--ah. ...Hadai had me talking forever. She thinks she has a shot at publication in some journal and some award, and--well. We have the proof, signed and official. ...I need water. Water and something to eat. I feel Hyne-horrid. ...she said we can go see Ralo at any time. Sooner the better."  
  
Taiga collapsed down onto the couch, one hand on his forehead, and groaned. Lu shook her head incredulously. "_Hyne_, Taiga! What did she _do_ to you?"  
  
"ICI analysis host," Taiga muttered. "Some of that equipment looks really scary, you know? Kept telling... it wasn't a threat. ...water?"  
  
Lu cast a concerned glance at Fujin--whose expression was unreadable. Taiga's arm jerked, and he groaned again. "_Disregard."_  
  
Lu hurriedly stepped off in pursuit of water.  
  
Nida packed up the card deck, glancing over at the document Fujin was still holding. "So, I guess this means that we head over to Ralo?"  
  
Fujin stared at him for a moment, as if trying to divine whether or not he had a hidden agenda. Then, decisively, she nodded. "YES."  
  
"This is all going a lot faster than I thought it would," Nida admitted.  
  
"Esthar tech," Taiga responded, as if that should explain everything.  
  
Nida stood up. "I guess I should tell Squall that we'll be leaving soon," he said.  
  
"Or we could leave him here," Seifer suggested.  
  
Nida blinked at him, and decided to ignore the comment.  
  
Lu returned as Nida walked out, carrying two glasses of water. She set them down in front of Taiga--who, without preamble or hesitation, took both and downed them as quickly as he could. Lu watched him, making no effort to hide her concern. "...Taiga? Are you all right?"  
  
Taiga waved it off. "...I'll make it," he said. "Just... a bit tired. ICI will wear you out. ...'m hungry. Sometime, I should eat. Something."  
  
"Taiga?" Lu asked. Taiga glanced up, raising both eyebrows in inquiry. "...what, exactly are we going to _ask_ Ralo?"  
  
Taiga paused. "To do... whatever she can," he finally said.  
  
"And what do we expect that she can do?"  
  
Taiag watched her. "At the very least? ...I don't know." He closed his eyes, leaning back. "It'll work out sooner or later, Lu. Hadai said that there was no question about my being requisitioned away from the army--for Science, of course. And if I can just--"  
  
He trailed off. Lu sighed. "...would you like more water?"  
  
"Water here tastes different than the water at Home Base," Taiga noted. "Why do you suppose that is?"  
  
"Different aquifers, differences in filtration--_Taiga_. You started a sentence and you didn't finish it."  
  
"The ICI is malfunctioning, and it's going pretty badly," Taiga explained. "Don't know when it happened. Maybe it's just deteriorating. I find it's... hard to concentrate. Been a rough day." He smiled. "Sorry."  
  
Lu sat down heavily. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Bring it up to Ralo. We'll just see what she can do, in any case."  
  
Nida and Squall chose that moment to re-enter the lobby, Squall looking all too ready to leave. "Are we ready?" he asked.  
  
Lu glanced over. "If Taiga is," she said.  
  
Taiga stood up, grimacing. "The spirit is willing," he said. "And the sooner we walk, the sooner we can sit."  
  
"Good, then," Nida broke in. "I trust one of us knows where the Institute is?"  
  
There was an awkward silence.  
  
"Ah," Lu said. "I've... seen it, before. I might be able to find it."  
  
Squall exhaled, exasperated. "Does the Institute contain Odine's Lab?"  
  
"Yes--Odine's, Guissen's, and Ralo's, as well as the ESOC Council office--"  
  
"I know where it is," Squall said--eliciting confused glances from _almost_ everyone. "Let's go."  
  


-

  
  
The Esthar streets were fairly crowded at midday, as people moved back-and-forth on whatever errands they had to run.They attracted any number of glances--mostly from civilians, staring at the decidedly foreign styles of clothing that everyone except Taiga and Lu were sporting.  
  
What they eventually decided wasn't certain--but since both Taiga and Lu were wearing ESOC robes, the general consensus seemed to be that they were in the city for some kind of scientific affair--and the fact that everyone aside from the two apparent EMOC officials was rather young and rather armed was only a minor sticking point. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Dr. Odine had gotten it into his head to do something that made no sense to anyone, and it probably wouldn't be the last.  
  
And if anyone noticed Taiga's random mutters--and if anyone listened closely enough to hear that they were mostly about _analyzing_ and _disregarding_--they chalked it up to the absent-mindedness and general minor psychoses that often began to afflict Odine's assistants after any sort of prolonged exposure to the man.  
  
The crowds began to thin out as the approached the Palace, and they began to see guards placed at strategic intervals. Traffic through this part of the city wasn't restricted--but it was usually only composed of people with official business.  
  
Taiga began to fidget as they moved through the district, casting nervous glances at the guards and shying away from them almost unconsciously. Fujin had fallen into a flanking position, one hand placed discreetly on his elbow.  
  
None of the guards seemed to notice or mind--which was lucky. The mood of the group was getting tenser, stemming from Taiga's inability to relax and only amplified by the fact that, if a guard stopped them, they would be hard-pressed to explain what they were doing.   
  
Unfortunately, that issue was about to make itself a moot point.  
  
As they passed the Presidential Palace Taiga stopped suddenly, head snapping around to stare in turn at each of the Palace guards. His eyes unfocused, and he swayed dangerously.  
  
Fujin was instantly attentive. "_What?_" she demanded in a tense whisper, steadying him as well as she could. Taiga shook his head, still staring blankly.  
  
"I--I--" he began, choking off the syllable before it really had time to develop. "...analyze. Analyze."  
  
"It's the ICI," Lu said, stating the obvious. "_Taiga_. Tell it to disregard."  
  
Taiga looked at and through her. "Analyze," he repeated.   
  
Lu shook her head, moving forward to take Taiga's shoulders. "Listen--" she began.  
  
Taiga bolted.  
  
Pulling away from both Fujin and Lu, he turned and darted back down the street and up the road to the Presidential Palace, charging at the guards. Fujin was after him almost immediately, and after a moment of shock had passed the rest of the group followed.  
  
One of the guards stepped forward and raised his shotel; before he had a chance to use it, Fujin's shuriken had knocked it out of his hand. Taiga dodged the other guard, slipping onto the elevator behind them and activating it with inhuman speed.  
  
The guard Fujin had attacked was on his feet in a matter of moments, pointing the gun base of his weapon at her, ready to repel an attack. Fujin had her Shuriken up into a ready position in as little time, and it was only Lu's quick intervention that prevented the problems they _already_ had from escalating.  
  
"Field Officer Hali Lu, fifth level biomechanics," she identified herself. "I don't know if you could tell, but that man was a cyborg. We're having problems with his interface; we need to get him to Dr. Ralo as soon as we can. Could you let us through, please?"  
  
The soldier straightened up, a bit taken aback. "If he's a cyborg," he stated, "he'll be taken care of by the guards inside. You don't have clearance."  
  
"Uh," the second guard said, pulling a datapad out of his armor and keying something in. Calling the other man over, he gestured to something on the screen. Both of them turned to look at Squall.  
  
The first guard straightened again, and saluted. "My apologies!" he said. "You're to be admitted to see the President. Go right ahead."  
  
Lu looked at Squall incredulously, though he seemed to be as confused as she was. She was about to say something, but Fujin preempted them by pelting past the guards and punching the elevator callbutton almost hard enough to break it. Without bothering to question the guards on the whys or hows, the rest of the team followed her.  
  
It took far, far too long for the elevator to arrive.  
  
Once it was there, it took far too long to take them up and into the palace.  
  
And once they had gotten there, Taiga was gone.


	37. President Loire

Squall took charge as they stepped off the lift--he recognized the hall they were in; the default target for the Palace lift. It was possible that Taiga had used some kind of military code to gain access to one of the other destinations--but that was unlikely, given his state of mind and what Squall _had_ to assume security measures were like in the Palace.  
  
In the context of everything else going on, that was a very nice stroke of luck.  
  
"There are only two rooms accessible on this level," Squall said, motioning quickly down the hall. "The Presidential Office and the Reception Room. If--"  
  
Fujin pushed past him, barreling down the hall as if she knew exactly where Taiga would go.  
  
"--we split up...." Squall trailed off, bit back an annoyed curse, and turned to run after her.  
  
Fujin ran to the end of the hall, charging at the pale door so fast that if they hadn't opened, it was likely they would have had to Phoenix Down her before she woke up again. It wasn't until they had that Squall noticed two very important things.  
  
Even when the office was empty, there were generally two armed guards standing outside the door. What they were supposed to be guarding was anyone's guess, but they hadn't been there when they had arrived on the floor.  
  
And to the best of Squall's recollection, even when the President _had_ been in the office, there hadn't been guards there. And it made all too much sense why the distinctive colors of the Esthar Standing Army could be seen on _four_ people within the room.  
  
Fujin rushed in with her shuriken ready to do battle, and before she had a chance to break Hyne knew how many Estharan laws, Squall took the initiative and incapacitated her with a Blind spell.  
  
Fujin pulled up short, shrieking out an enraged half-vocalization. The guards, looking as if they were being beset by a riot mob, were falling back into a position to protect the hitherto-unseen fifth occupant of the room--the Estharan President, Laguna Loire. He had apparently been working on something at his desk, and had stood up when the commotion started up.  
  
No one in the immediate group was paying any attention to the President. All of their attention was focused on Fujin--who looked as if she would be attacking everything, if only she knew where it was--and Taiga, lying in a sprawl of Esthar robes on the ground, not moving.  
  
For a few moments, there was a tense standoff. Then the soldiers, realizing that they might have the upper hand in the situation--if only because the only one who seemed _intent_ on attacking them couldn't see a thing--one of them carefully removed one hand from his weapon and motioned them apart. "Spread out so I can see you," he snapped. "Hands where I can see them! Keep away from your weapons!"  
  
Everyone complied except for Fujin, who kept a white-knuckled grip on her shuriken and looked ready to main anyone who tried to take it away.  
  
The soldier was about to do something else when Laguna stepped carefully around the desk, looking over the scene. "Ah... excuse me," he said, as if not wanting to interrupt the course of anything important. "...what's going on?"  
  
Lu stepped forward--slowly, of course, keeping both hands very visible. "I'm _terribly_ sorry, Mr, President! This man here is a cyborg who's--he's been experiencing some ICI malfunctions so we were to take him to Dr. Ralo's lab, and he--well, sir, I'm not entirely sure _what_ happened--"  
  
Laguna was nodding along with the confused air of someone who had no idea what they were being told but was too polite to interrupt. Eventually Lu ran herself into a wall, and trailed off. Laguna glanced over them all once more.  
  
"Squall," he finally settled on. "Are these your friends?"  
  
To say that Squall was taken aback would have been a fairly serious understatement. "After a fashion," he finally acknowledged.  
  
Laguna nodded, as if he had just made sense of everything. "Let him up," he said, nodding to Taiga.  
  
One of the soldiers glanced back. "Sir," he began, sounding rather pained, "he's down for the count. Stun weapons will do that to you. If you would like me to--"  
  
"YOU _HURT FATHER?_" Fujin demanded, taking an angry step in the soldier's direction. She couldn't see it happen, but within an instant, all four shotels were trained on her.  
  
"_Father_?" one of the soldiers demanded. "The devil's got you?"  
  
"Sir," Lu interposed quickly, "this can all be cleared up pretty well with a document that... that we should have. Here. ...Anyev? Do you still have it?"  
  
Fujin glanced back over her shoulder to glare in Lu's general direction--but misestimated the direction somewhat, and ended up glaring Raijin into submission instead. "DROPPED," she growled.  
  
Lu closed her eyes, and silently resigned herself to a lifetime in prison.  
  
Laguna once again looked to Squall for clarification. Squall sighed inwardly--his previous experience in Esthar seemed to be helping him thus far, but Laguna's assumption that he was somehow in control of _this_ debacle as well was beginning to wear on his nerves. "She probably dropped it getting ready for battle," he said, unable to stifle the feeling that he would only be making things worse by saying that. "If you contact the guards by the Palace entrance, they should have found it. If not, you should contact a Dr. Jenn Hadai, who will have information that will explain... _some_ of what our business here is."  
  
Laguna nodded. "You can't explain?"  
  
Squall wished _fervently_ that he wouldn't have to, but concealed it well in front of the chief executive of the largest, most powerful nation on the globe. "If you would like me to make a report, sir--"  
  
"No, no. That's all right." Laguna tucked both hands behind him. "Dr. Ralo, you said?"  
  
Squall nodded.  
  
"I'll have someone contact her and bring her in." Laguna glanced over the group, gaze remaining on Seifer for what seemed to be an uncomfortable amount of time. Then, with a slight shrug, he motioned the soldiers to stand down.  
  
...this had very little effect, given that he was standing behind them.  
  
"You men can go back to your posts," he said, after figuring out what the problem was. All of the soldiers hesitated.  
  
"Sir..." one of them said. "I'm not sure that would be wise, under the circumstances."  
  
Laguna looked around. "Why not? You said he was stunned... right?"  
  
The soldiers exchanged glances. "Sir--"  
  
Laguna shrugged. "Squall? You're not here to attack me or anything, are you?"  
  
Squall snapped into a SeeD salute more-or-less automatically. "No, sir."  
  
"Then I don't see why you need to worry," Laguna concluded, speaking to the soldiers. "We'll be perfectly fine, and they can explain to me what's going on. You can have that thing brought up to me."  
  
The soldiers glanced at each other, glanced at the group by the door, and gave up. Snapping into salutes, they nodded. "Yes, _sir_!"  
  
Squall waited until the soldiers had left the office, then followed up the Blind with an Esuna. Fujin turned on him, and for a moment Squall was certain that she was going to try to thank him by lobbing the shuriken at his face. Then she forgot about him entirely, dropping to her knees at Taiga's side to check him for injuries.  
  
Laguna cleared his throat. "Well," he said. "I know Squall, and I can see you're Seifer Almasy--welcome to Esthar, by the way. I'm Laguna Loire. And the rest of you?"

-

Laguna's hospitality was certainly unmatched by any other head of state, and completely inexplicable to his guests--Seifer most particularly, given that he had expected to be hauled off for some kind of war crimes tribunal immediately upon identification. And, even though attempting to attack the president doubtlessly had some kind of hefty criminal penalty attached to it, Laguna didn't seem to consider that at all--and, instead, called up medics for Taiga (who spent a considerable time convincing Fujin to let them do their job, as it seemed Fujin wasn't too keen on the idea of more strange Palace staff coming between her and her father--in the end, they just told her to come along) and invited them all for coffee.  
  
After facing what they had been sure would turn into the trial of the century for attempted assassination and being accomplices to desertion and possibly murder and whatever else Taiga had on his record, _no one _refused.  
  
So, sitting in the reception room, staring warily over cups of steaming Estharan blend--a dark beverage that put regular coffee to shame with its strength and bitterness--and still half-expecting to be surrounded by crack soldiers at any time, the group quietly nominated Lu to tell the story of what they were doing and why. Through all of it, Laguna maintained an understanding silence--nodding at intervals and sipping his coffee with the air of one whose taste buds had been numbed by the stuff long, long ago.  
  
Squall wasn't having a good time, at all. While Lu's story might make for an interesting addendum to his report, he could only _imagine_ what kind of protocols he was breaking. ...the mission had started out as a simple errand--hardly anything but killing time. Find Seifer in Balamb, escort him back to Garden. How it had gone _this_ wrong was a staggering question. The fact that he was sitting in a room with Esthar's president while a woman he didn't know told stories about Fujin's father defied all logical causality.  
  
That, and whenever the issue of parentage came up, Laguna would cast Squall a surreptitious glance that Squall wasn't quite sure he was comfortable with.  
  
When Lu finally seemed to have finished the story, Laguna said nothing for a few moments. Then, finally, setting down his cup of coffee, he nodded decisively. "So, all you really need is to see someone about getting these implants fixed, or whatever," he translated. "And Ralo is who you thought you'd try."  
  
Lu nodded.  
  
"Well," Laguna said, stretching, "I don't think that'll be any problem."  
  
"...oh?" Lu asked, feebly.  
  
Laguna blinked. "I _am_ the president," he said, gesturing offhandedly. "She pretty much has to come if I call her, right?"  
  
"I... would imagine so," Lu agreed, glancing across their group in vain search of anyone else who would tacitly agree how strange this was. "Sir, we really don't mean to be an imposition--"  
  
"It's no problem," Laguna assured, smiling. He leaned forward, hitting a button on the table. "I'm glad I can help out."  
  
The door opened, admitting one of the palace staff. "Sir?"  
  
"There were some guards who were supposed to find a document or something," the President started.  
  
"Yes, sir," the woman said. "Would you like to see that now?"  
  
"Yes, please. Oh--and, about contacting Dr. Ralo--"  
  
"She's in the middle of some touchy calibrations right now, but you've got the first free minute she has. Is that all right, sir?"  
  
Laguna smiled. "Yes, thank you. In the mean time... I think all of these people will be staying here for a few days while we get everything sorted. Could you take care of that?"  
  
"I'll see about getting rooms," the aide said. "Will there be anything else?"  
  
"Not now, thanks." Laguna glanced back. "Unless...?"  
  
Lu hurriedly shook her head. "N-no," she began.  
  
The woman nodded and hurried off. Lu swirled her coffee, quite uncomfortable.  
  
"Sir, I appreciate the lengths you're going to--"  
  
"It's not a problem, really." Laguna glanced at Squall for the fiftieth time--and, for the fiftieth time, Squall returned his glance cooly and professionally and wished that Laguna would just _stop_. The President quickly glanced away. "...I just hope we can clear all this up."  
  
The door re-opened, and yet another staffer walked in with Hadai's documentation. Laguna took it, flipped it open to the first page, skimmed over it--and flipped it closed. "When's Kiros scheduled to get back?" he asked the aide.  
  
"Later today," the aide replied.  
  
"Have him come see me as soon as he gets in."  
  
"Yes, sir." The aide paused. "...would you like me to call in a medic?"  
  
Laguna didn't make the connection for a moment. "...er, should you?"  
  
"If you'll excuse me from saying...." The man shrugged. "Your guest there appears to be in some amount of pain."  
  
At once, Seifer found himself the subject of any number of stares.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Raijin spoke up. "Seifer broke a few ribs when he got into a fight with Tai--"  
  
Seifer kicked him in the ankle. Raijin jumped, turning to stare at him in surprise.  
  
Laguna nodded. "I... didn't realize that," he said. "Well, you'd better see the doctor, hadn't you?"  
  
Seifer stood up with a great deal of ill grace. "Yeah," he conceded. "Maybe I should."  
  
"If you'll follow me, sir," the aide said, motioning out the door. Seifer glanced back to give Raijin an ugly look, and followed him out.  
  
Laguna checked his watch. "I have a meeting in half an hour I need to get ready for," he apologized, "so I'll have an aide come in and show you around the Palace. Then, I guess I'll see you after I talk to Ralo, okay?"  
  
Lu stood up, paying attention to some obscure bit of formality that Laguna evidently wasn't concerned about at all. "Thank you again. Mr. President."  
  
Laguna waved it off and, with a final glance at Squall, walked out the door.  
  
Lu turned back to the rest of them as soon as he was gone, shaking her head incredulously. "...that went far better than I would have thought possible," she said. Then, looking at Squall, she demanded "_How_ do you know the President?"  
  
Squall felt the familiar pangs of a headache beginning just between his eyes. "...I was hired for a mission by the Esthar government once," he said, making a dismissive gesture with one hand and fighting the urge to crawl under something before she started on some kind of hero-worship.  
  
Lu was staring in a way that Squall found very disconcerting. Eventually, she sat down and shook her head again. "...I really am traveling with quite the crew of celebrities," she said wryly. Glancing at Nida, she added "I don't suppose _you're_ the Regent Duke of Dollet or anything?"  
  
Nida actually glanced behind himself before answering. "...who, _me?"_  
  
The door opened, and a third aide stepped in. Squall was beginning to wonder how many people were around the Palace just to perform whatever mundane duty Laguna put them to. "Hello," he introduced himself cheerfully. "I'm Hal Rai. If you follow me, I'll show you the guest levels of the Palace...." 


	38. Dinnertime Politics

As it turned out, it was dinnertime before they got the chance to speak to the President again. By that time everyone had pretty much found something to do, and the aide who got sent after them had an interesting time gathering them up. He lead them through a set of halls that seemed a good deal more complicated than they needed to be, until finally they arrives at one of what were sure to be many dining rooms of assorted size in the Palace.  
  
The aide directed them to their seats--apparently there was some kind of formal protocol that dictated the seating order of guests--and told them just to stand behind their seats until the President arrived. He apologized for not having the time to brief them on extended etiquette, but assured them that the President wouldn't hold it against them. Then he left the room, leaving them to stare at their rather inscrutable place settings.  
  
Fortunately, before they had the chance to feel _too_ awkward, Laguna came in through one of the doors, looked around the room, and shook his head. "He told you that you had to stand up all the time, didn't he?"  
  
There were a few nods.  
  
"Ignore him," was the President's advice. "Go on, sit down."  
  
Laguna slid easily into his chair, letting everyone else follow his lead. Once they had, Squall found himself sitting rather uncomfortably at the President's left hand, and wasn't at all sure what kind of protocol had put him _there_.  
  
It would be nice, he reflected, if the rest of the group were as convinced in his role as team leader as Laguna seemed to be.  
  
There were two empty seats left--one at the President's right hand, and one at the end opposite him. Laguna motioned to them. "Kiros and Ralo are going to be a bit late," he explained, "but they wanted us to start without them. If you're ready to eat...?"  
  
Lu glanced down the table. "Ralo is coming _now_, sir?"  
  
Laguna nodded. "I had a copy of the report you gave me sent to her, and she's been talking to the Infirmary staff since a few hours ago." An aide entered, glanced around, and left again. Laguna seemed not to notice. "Kiros is just getting back from a trip to Juska, and I had someone call and tell him what was going on. He should be getting here pretty soon."  
  
The aide re-entered, ushering in a cart of food. Two waiters quickly went about serving everyone, trying to be as innocuous as possible. Laguna ignored them as if he was more than used to having them there--which, in all likelihood, he was. As they were serving, the main door slid open to admit yet another person.  
  
"Kiros!" Laguna greeted him, waving him to take his seat. "How was the trip?"  
  
Kiros cast a wary eye over their guests. "Really, sir, would you like me to tell you?"  
  
"Nah. Sit down." Laguna nodded to the rest of the people at the table. "I think you know what's going on?"  
  
"As far as can be expected." Kiros folded into his chair, nodding civilly. "I'm Kiros Seagull, Palace Administration Overseer. How are all of you?" He didn't wait for a response. "Laguna, at some point, you're going to need to speak to the Legal Council."  
  
Luna had already begun to eat. "Have I done something wrong?"  
  
Kiros glanced back at the table, and pondered for a moment how to phrase everything. "Not at all, sir. But this is pretty dicy ground."  
  
Laguna swallowed his food. "Why?"  
  
Kiros sighed, folding his hands together. "Sir, I don't know if you realize exactly _how_ many laws have been broken in the course of this affair, and how many laws you're _looking_ at breaking."  
  
Lu leaned forward. "Excuse me," she spoke up, catching the attention of the far side of the table. "...Hali Lu, fifth-level biomechanics field officer. It was my understanding that the ESOC had the authority to requisition military supplies and personnel for whatever purpose--"  
  
"Ordinarily, yes," Kiros agreed. "But there are problems when you get into the fact that--his name? Taiga?--is a _cyborg_, and even more problems when you get into his record."  
  
"What are the problems?" Lu asked, with the cold certainty that she wasn't going to be hungry for very much longer.  
  
Kiros glanced down at his food. "Cyborgs... have never been considered part of the standing army," he said. "The cybernetic corps were established under Adel as what politicians like to call the 'flagship force' of the Esthar Army; since Adel was the one who commissioned them, they were put under a different ruling body and established with different guidelines than standard military."  
  
Laguna shook his head. "Tell me what the _problem_ is."  
  
"The problem--" Kiros took a deep breath. "I can have someone come in and brief us on all the mundane details, but what it boils down to is this: Adel made the corps to function more-or-less under her own authority and wouldn't give up the power to anyone else except for a committee that _she_ established with... more legal power than they necessarily _needed_. Cyborgs don't fall into the same legal categorization as soldiers do. ...they don't fall into the same categorization as _citizens_ do."  
  
Laguna shook his head slowly. "Why haven't I ever heard _anything_ about this?"  
  
"Because Adel made the corps as autonomous as she could. Sir, Esthar could _burn down_ and the cybernetic corps would be largely unaffected."  
  
"But they're still part of the army, right?" Lu tapped the table. "Or at least, they're under the control of the government. Taiga told me that someone who kidnapped a cyborg could be charged with theft of _government_ property."  
  
"That... may be the worst bit of information," Kiros said. "That's what cyborgs, _are_, technically--that's how Adel managed to circumvent every military guideline that applied to soldiers."  
  
Laguna was washing something down with a drink, so Lu took the initiative. "How was that?"  
  
Kiros looked over with the air of a doctor who had to tell his patient that she had three terminal illnesses and a calcium deficiency, to boot. "Cyborgs are classified as _property_ of a specialized subsection or the army. ...the assumption was always that the mechanical components would outweigh the... human ones. Laguna, _legally_, cyborgs aren't considered soldiers because they aren't considered _people_."


	39. Dinnertime Problems

The room was struck silent as Kiros made his pronouncement--except for a brief clatter as Fujin pushed away from the table and stood, intent on making some objection and not at all sure what that objection should be.  
  
Laguna pushed his plate forward, uncharacteristically grim. "How long has this been true?"  
  
"Since the corps were established, roughly twenty-six years ago."  
  
"So... they're basically slaves, then."  
  
"Basically."  
  
"For _twenty-six_ years."  
  
Kiros nodded.  
  
Laguna was frowning, looking as upset as _anyone_ had ever seen him. "Kiros... how did no one _tell_ me about this?"  
  
"Laguna--"  
  
"_No one's_ ever figured that this is maybe something I should change? _No one's_ decided I might want to _know_ about this?" What the--"  
  
"_Mr. President!"_  
  
Laguna bit his tongue--fairly hard. He winced.  
  
"No one told you because this is such an obscure part of Estharan law that it took me and three staffers _since you had me briefed _to find out about it. I'm not entirely sure that the _cyborgs_ know they have no rights. This is something you have to be actively looking for, and _no one does_." He shook his head. "Adel made sure of that."  
  
There was a wounded silence.  
  
Kiros glanced up at Fujin. "We're still looking into things," he said, and returned quietly to his meal.  
  
No one seemed too intent on conversing as the dinner wore on. Eventually Fujin sat down again--but didn't touch her food.  
  
Laguna picked at his dish, mulling over everything in search of an answer. Finally, he set his fork down across his plate. "Kiros!"  
  
Kiros glanced up, expression pretty clearly communicating his dread at whatever harebrained scheme Laguna was about to put him to.  
  
"I want you to, as _soon_ as _possible_, see about getting every member of a cyborg corp to be... honorably discharged. Decommissioned. Whatever we _do_ to people--_supplies_--we want taken out of the army."  
  
Kiros blanched. "Laguna...."  
  
"What?" Laguna headed off the objection he was sure would follow before Kiros had a chance to make it. "You don't think these people deserve it?"  
  
"It--of _course_ I think they deserve it! I just don't think it's going to be that _simple_."  
  
Laguna stared. Kiros groaned.  
  
"Laguna--_Mr. President_, you're _not_ the Commander-in-Chief of the army. If you were president of _Galbadia_, you would be, but it's not true _here_. As if that's not bad enough, cybernetic affairs are taken care of by the committee that Adel established and your authority over _that_ is murky, at _best_!"  
  
Laguna sighed. "And at worst?"  
  
"Nonexistent." Kiros was massaging his temples with his index fingers, searching for alternatives in the patterns of his food. "In theory," he said, "you could make a case that the cybernetics committee is nominally under control of the Military Affairs Commissioner, who will act under orders of the Estharan Military Oversight Commission. But this is a long shot--the most you can do there is propose a bill for consideration and mark it 'urgent.' It will still have to be reviewed by God knows how many panels before the EMOC comes to a decision, and when that's done they have to turn it over to the Admiral General--who can _veto_ it, if he doesn't like the terms! _If_ the Admiral-General agrees, _then_ it can be turned over to whoever in hell is in charge of the cybernetics committee." Kiros shook his head. "And that's not even mentioning that you'll be disbanding--what, a fifth of the army? I can't _begin_ to count how many different agencies will take exception to _that_. And then--I haven't even _started_ in on the fact that majority _or_ minority, there may be cyborgs who don't _want_ to be discharged, and--"  
  
He trailed off. Laguna was scratching the back of his neck. "So... what can we do?"  
  
Kiros sighed. "...I'll put a bill to the EMOC and mark it urgent."  
  
"And... see about a presidential pardon for Taiga! ...I can do _that_, right?"  
  
Kiros stood up. "Probably not, but I'll get the paperwork anyway."  
  
Laguna waved his fork. "No, no! You don't have to _now_. Finish eating."  
  
"The EMOC will stop sitting for the week in a little under an hour," Kiros pointed out. "You want to wait another five days?"  
  
Laguna digested that. "Go ahead," he granted.  
  
"I wouldn't get your hopes up." Kiros warned as he made his way out. As he exited, he paused to hold the door open for another person--a woman in official ESOC robes of average height, with a scowl firmly in place. She swept into the room with all the confident purpose possible, walking up to her place at the end of the table and placing her hands firmly down on the back of the chair just as the door hissed shut behind her.  
  
"Mr. President," Dr. Dy Ralo snapped, glaring down the table with considerable force, "you'll _forgive_ me for speaking so candidly and especially in front of your guests, but you have no idea how much _shit_ you've gotten yourself into."


	40. Parentage

Laguna blinked slowly, as if having high-ranking members of important Estharan commissions walk in on his dinner and swear at him was a perfectly normal occurrence. "Kiros was just telling us about Esthar law--" he began.  
  
"I don't give a care about legality, Mr. President, that's your business. This is _science_, and I'm saying that the levels on which this problem has compounded itself are so many as to require a _Geiller Device_ to number them!"  
  
No one knew what a Geiller Device was, but no one asked.  
  
"Well, if you could explain--" Laguna began.  
  
"In _layman's _terms?" Ralo snorted. "The only reason that cyborg you have down there hasn't identified a fatal error and self-destructed is that the ICI component that would _identify_ a fatal error is _experiencing_ a fatal error!"  
  
There were at least three people at the table who were wincing every time Ralo said the words "fatal" or "error," but Ralo didn't seem to care.  
  
"What can you do?" Laguna asked.  
  
"Sir." Ralo was drumming her knuckles on the chair back. "I would like you to guess two things. First, how many experts on cybernetics do you think we have in this country? Second, how long do you think it's been since there's been any Government-funded research going into the cybernetics field? I don't want to give anything away, but I'll give you some hints: we have less than ten and it's been over fifteen years."  
  
Laguna didn't shrink back--and did what might have been the most Presidential thing he had done so far. "I said, _what_ can you do?"  
  
Ralo sucked in breath. "...I can get the two people who know about cybernetics and haven't retired yet on the next transport to the Palace," she said. "I can call in people from the Ministry of Cognitive Sciences, the Ministry of Specialized Programming, and the Ministry of Surgical Medicine. I can have people looking up every technical article about cyborgs ever written."  
  
Laguna nodded. "Do that, then."  
  
Ralo paused. "...do I have the stamp of the President behind it?"  
  
"Of course." Laguna motioned to the chair. "Would you like something to eat?"  
  
"Mr. President, I anticipate it will be at _least_ a day before I want to look at food again."  
  
Laguna smiled charitably. "I know what you mean," he said.  
  
Fujin pushed away from the table. "I want to see father," she said, looking directly to Laguna. Laguna glanced at Ralo.  
  
"It's unlikely at _this_ point that visitors will ruin anything more than it's already _been_ ruined." Ralo beckoned. "Come on."  
  
Lu stood up, as well. "I think I had better--"  
  
"NO." Fujin turned on her, voice more forceful than it needed to be to get the point across. "STAY HERE."  
  
Lu sat down again. "--stay here," she finished. "Dr. Ralo, if I can provide any assistance at _all_--"  
  
"Naturally, I'll be calling on you to give _detailed_ accounts of your time with the man," Ralo said. "As I'll be calling on everyone else who's been in contact with him. Excuse me, Mr. President."  
  
Laguna nodded, and Ralo swept out of the room--trailing Fujin behind her. Laguna sighed, pushing his plate away.  
  
"Sorry, guys," he apologized, not really speaking to anyone. "...dinner wasn't quite as good as I thought it would be."

-

Evening was uneventful.  
  
Dinner finished in silence, and the aide returned to show them back to the guest levels. Lu commandeered a computer terminal and tried to read up on cybernetics--but there wasn't much information readily available, and even if there had been it would have made little difference. But she was trying to do _something_--something to make her feel a bit less powerless over the situation.  
  
Seifer and Raijin retired to their rooms, unsure of what their role was to be. It was now clearer than ever before that this quest was Fujin's--they were extraneous, just as she had always intended them to be.  
  
If there was anything Seifer couldn't stand, it was being extraneous.  
  
Eventually, he decided to do something about it, and headed off in search of someone who could direct him to the Infirmary. It didn't occur to him that he might have been being selfish--but even if it had, it was likely that he wouldn't have cared.  
  
He passed Laguna on the way to the lift, and the President nodded at him--rather distractedly. Laguna had been wandering the guest floors aimlessly for quite some time now, and was beginning to wonder if chance encounters really had anything to do with probability and were in fact regulated exclusively by karma. He had been trying to "randomly" bump into Squall for what seemed like an hour, and had met with no success so far. Eventually he had found that Squall was reading something in the Library, and had been walking the hall connecting to it in hope that Squall wasn't going to spend the entire _night_ in there. When Squall actually _did _walk out of the library, Laguna was so surprised that it actually did seem to be a random meeting. And--in what might or might not be a good thing--it seemed to take Squall rather by surprise, as well.  
  
"Squall!" Laguna had intended to be completely casual, but adrenaline and nervous energy conspired to sabotage him. "I--fancy meeting you here."  
  
Squall nodded, whatever he was thinking pretty well hidden behind the same professional face he always wore. "Sir."  
  
Laguna waved it off. "That's all right--er, call me Laguna. Please." He glanced around. "You know, I wanted to talk to you--"  
  
Squall nodded. Laguna had mentioned something like it before. "If this is about the Ultimecia mission...."  
  
"What? No, it's not." Laguna blinked, making a concerted effort to stop acting like a jumpy adolescent. "...I wanted to talk to you about something, but... I'm not sure that now would be... appropriate. What with everything going on with Fujin's father."  
  
Squall didn't quite know how to respond to that. "...I see."  
  
"Man, though, that sure is something, isn't it?" Laguna scratched the back of his neck. "She comes all the way out _here _for her father. Not many people would do that, huh?"  
  
Squall was trying to figure out a polite way to escape, and it wasn't going exceptionally well. "I don't imagine so, no."  
  
"Have you seen Ellone recently?" Laguna asked, well aware that if he let an awkward silence descend _now_ Squall would take it as the perfect opportunity to leave.  
  
Squall shook his head. "Not since the Lunatic Pandora."  
  
Laguna nodded. "Oh. Yeah, she went... off... somewhere. Visiting the White SeeDs, I think. Um... it's a pity that she isn't here now. You two could have... talked. Or something."  
  
Squall nodded.  
  
Laguna stalled. "...we should talk sometime," he said. "...after all this blows over."  
  
Squall nodded again. "Yes, sir."  
  
Laguna deflated. "Well," he said. "...good night."  
  
"Good night," Squall returned, and walked off.  
  
Laguna slunk off in the opposite direction, wishing that the confrontation had gone differently in about a thousand ways.

-

Fujin was sitting at the side of Taiga's bed when Seifer walked in, arms resting on the bedside and chin down on her arms. Taiga was sleeping--at least, it _looked_ as if he was sleeping. Seifer didn't know how to read cyborgs, so he didn't know if it was that or something more.  
  
"How's it going?" he asked quietly--there was something about _this_ infirmary that, like all libraries, made one lower one's voice almost unconsciously.  
  
Fujin didn't look up at him. "The ICI doesn't work," she said.  
  
Seifer shook his head. "Meaning?"  
  
Fujin sighed. "_Disable ICI. Surgery. Remove_."  
  
"Sounds rough."  
  
"Dangerous," Fujin agreed. "...very. But necessary."  
  
Seifer found a chair, and pulled it over. "I'm sorry."  
  
Fujin chuckled humorlessly. "Your fault?"  
  
"I hope not." He sat down. "You worried?"  
  
Fujin nodded.  
  
"...anything I can do to help?"  
  
"Doubtful."  
  
Seifer sat quietly until he could think of something to say. "...at least you know he's in good hands," he said lamely. "...President of Esthar, and all that."  
  
Fujin snorted. "Lucky."  
  
"Friends in high places." Seifer shook his head, trying to sound amused and not bitter. "Good thing _Squall_ saved the _world_, or Hyne knows how we would have gotten in here."  
  
Fujin glanced over for the first time, staring at him oddly. Seifer was rather taken aback.  
  
"...what?"  
  
"Not the reason," Fujin whispered, and turned back to Taiga. "We got in because he's my _father_. Loire understands that."  
  
Seifer considered that for a moment. "Well, it's a good thing we had Squall to be our door pass, anyway," he clarified.  
  
"...good thing," Fujin repeated, and Seifer wasn't sure if that meant she agreed. "Quiet, now."  
  
"All right." Seifer leaned back.  
  
And for quite a while, no one spoke at all. 


	41. Anticipation

The next day brought with it a flurry of rushed activity--activity that the group that had come so far from was barely party to. Scientists were coming and going from the Palace as soon as it was late enough in the morning not to be obscene, and there was a constant bustle of aides in the Infirmary. Sometime around midmorning Taiga was moved to the nearby Odine Institute, into one of the observation labs--which came as an unwelcome shock to Fujin, at least.  
  
The scientists had full access to the Palace guests, and before long each one of them was called on to give accounts--as detailed as was humanly possible, even beyond the constraints of a standard technical report. The SeeDs were asked to give appraisals as they were trained to do, Lu found herself trying to remember every conversation she'd ever hand and relate it verbatim, and Fujin was asked to dredge up any memory--no matter how insignificant--of childhood in the Centra house. Seifer and Raijin were just drilled on everything in general--and then, when they failed to answer that to the scientists' approval, everything in specifics.  
  
Laguna pulled the only string he needed to, and managed to get them into whatever scientific discussions they wanted to listen in on. They were allowed free access to the observation areas of the Odine Institute--though no one watched except Fujin, who seemed intent on making sure that she would know every last detail of the procedure and hat every scientist was doing and why. Everyone learned quickly that it was best not to be too arcane around her, or trouble would begin to arise.  
  
Fujin could be quite _unsettling_ when she chose to be.  
  
The day wore on in a flurry of activity, meetings and consultations and discussions and an incredibly vibrant atmosphere of scientific discourse. And, by the afternoon, a schedule and procedure had been agreed upon for the surgery.  
  
And if anyone expressed concern that things were moving rather fast, Laguna would shrug and say "Esthar technology," --as if it was the way things were always done and, really, something to be glad about.  
  
Taiga woke up only once that day, and was put back to sleep soon after. And, though Fujin was at his side immediately upon his waking, he didn't seem to recognize her, and only said one thing during his consciousness:  
  
"Disregard. ICI... you're _there_, aren't you?"  
  


-

  
  
Fujin didn't sleep that night. She didn't try to. She sat up, watching the Esthar cityscape glow from her guest room window, wondering what it was about the city that could spawn tragedies and miracles so close to one another. She wondered what it was that could inspire anything like what it had--the technology to rob cyborgs of their humanity, the technology to give one a child....  
  
Cyborgs could disable dreams. Fujin had never had that luxury--though, if she had, she didn't know if she would use it. Even up through this, the dreams were what had always helped her remember.  
  
But what would she need to remember between this night and the next afternoon?  
  
She didn't think that anyone had asked Taiga about having the ICI removed, and it was a point that was nagging at her. It was a necessary step, she understood, and had they asked him he probably would have said yes--and who _wouldn't_?--but it still rankled. It was one more day in the life of a cyborg--things were always being done for someone's best benefit, and never for the cyborg's preference.  
  
...cyborgs weren't considered _people_.  
  
...it seemed as if she had always known that, somehow. As if somehow, she had figured out that the reason these things happened--the reason they were _allowed_ to happen and she was allowed to be taken away from her family with all expectation that she would never see them again--was because there was something wrong with the world, something it was blinded to that only she could see. She had one good eye and better sight than anyone.  
  
And still, the city held secrets that she couldn't see--malice or ignorance or the simple pigheaded brutality that came with war, all of them might be factors and none of them were obvious.  
  
And, she supposed, none of them _mattered_, any more. The damage had already been done.  
  
If she had known what praying was or ever believed in it, she would have prayed then. But as it was she simply sat and waited, staring through the long night hours and the slowly lightening sky.  
  


-

  
  
After breakfast, they were ushered into the one of the many conference rooms in the Odine Institute to wait through the operation. The person attending to them made no bones about the fact that it was a daunting one--very difficult, and very dangerous. "But," he said, with an encouraging smile, "we have Esthar's greatest minds on it. In three hours, we should all be able to bring you good news."  
  
Laguna stopped by once, and apologized that he couldn't stay. But there was business to be done--the life of the President of the most powerful nation on the globe was scattered with Things To Be Done, not the least of which concerned the legal battle he was just now entering for Taiga's sake. He left the aide with them, saying that if they needed anything at all they could just ask.  
  
And the minutes wore on.  
  
Kiros stopped in briefly on his was to speak with members of the EMOC, and said most of the same things that Laguna had before he slipped out.  
  
Three hours passed, and no news came. So they waited for a fourth hour.  
  
Sometime later, someone brought them a selection of foods. The food was picked over, but no one ate much at all.  
  
Two hours later, an aide came and asked if they would like to be taken back to the Palace. And, because no one else seemed to know what to say, Nida took the initiative.  
  
"No thanks," he said. "I think we'll just stay here."  
  
The clock on the wall continued its relentless motion, moving smoothly through minutes and hours. Aides came and went--some with apologies, some with useless, simple explanations, some with refreshments or things to keep them entertained or scientific journals on related procedures or anything they thought might make the waiting more bearable. Nothing really helped.  
  
When darkness fell, an aide cleared away the half-eaten lunch arrangement and brought in more substantial food for dinner. By then no one was in the mood to eat, though a few tried to in any case.  
  
No one was talking, by now.  
  
And the hours wore on.  
  
Nearing the deepest part of the night two new aides appeared and, with muted voices and sincere concern, they apologized for keeping them in a room so long for no good reason. They promised to send messengers were anything to change, at all.  
  
On the way back to the Palace, no one spoke at all. A bird called from somewhere above them, voice hollow and raw in the still night air.  
  
Fujin had never known there were birds in Esthar. But it seemed familiar, somehow--something like the big black crows that flew by the house in Centra, somewhere buried deep in her memories.  
  
Esthar stared back at her as she walked--silent and inscrutable, as ever.


	42. Absolution

It was still dark--very dark--when Lu was awakened by an urgent knock at her door. Getting up hurriedly, she pulled on her robes and stumbled to the doorway to open it.  
  
A messenger stood outside, worried look on his face. "Hali Lu?" he asked, rushing his syllables. "I need you to come with me. Now."  
  
"What--" Lu tried to shake sleep from her eyes--with little success. "Why? What's happened?"  
  
"I'll explain on the way," the messenger assured. "Please hurry."  
  
A cold hand gripped Lu. Quickly, she retreated into her room long enough to find shoes, and then followed the messenger out.  
  
The Palace was oddly empty--lights were still on everywhere, but there was no sound and no motion in the guest level halls.  
  
"They're just finishing the operation now," the man explained as he lead her out into the dead darkness of an Estharan night. The soft glow from the buildings around them dimmed out the stars, lending a dreamlike, misty quality to the air. "It'll be the first time since his activation as a cyborg he'll wake up without another presence there--without the ICI. We need a familiar face."  
  
"Is he all right?" Lu walked faster, trying to keep pace with the man. "The operation took so long--what happened? ...why isn't Anyev coming?"  
  
"We don't know, there were complications, and she'll be called in soon enough. But, quite frankly, he's been in contact with you more, recently. At _this_ moment, _you're_ more familiar to him."  
  
Lu felt a twinge of embarrassment--mixed with worry. "Complications? What complications?"  
  
"The ICI is a complicated piece of work, it feeds into so many of the mind's functions... sooner or later the brain develops a dependency on the unit. It's been hard to work around that."  
  
"But is he _all right?_"  
  
"I don't know. _We_ don't know. We _won't_ know until we've had a chance to observe him."  
  
Lu swallowed any further queries she might have made. The messenger lead her into the Institute, into a small waiting room outside one of the labs.  
  
And they waited.  
  
It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes before the door opened, letting one of the scientists out or the room. He looked tired--he looked more than tired. He look exhausted, drained down to the lat bit of his strength. He looked at her for a moment before he realized who she was.  
  
"Ohgood the FO," he muttered, slurring his words together. "Verygood. Go onin won'tyou. Thankyou for coming. If you needme I'll beoutside...."  
  
The messenger nodded, and Lu stepped inside. The door hissed shut behind her.  
  
Taiga was lying on a low bed in the center of the lab, breathing raggedly. Lu approached cautiously, not at all sure what was expected of her.  
  
If she had thought the scientist tending to him looked terrible, she didn't know _what_ word there was for Taiga. He looked like Death incarnate.  
  
His eyes fluttered open, and he peered up at her for some long moments before he seemed to recognize her. "Lu," he croaked, voice harsh and rough. "Hali Lu, field officer, biomechanics, fifth level. Lu."  
  
"Yes." Lu knelt down nest to the bed, trying to smile encouragingly. "It's me. How are you feeling?"  
  
"I--don't know." Taiga stared emptily. "Tired... not like sleeping. Just... tired."  
  
"You should rest and recover," Lu said. "You've been through some rough days."  
  
"They took it out," he mumbled. "That's what he said. Removed the ICI. Said they had to...."  
  
"It was a fatal error, Taiga," Lu swallowed. "It was the only thing they could do to save you."  
  
"I... knew. I think I knew." Taiga nodded jerkily. "I--when we came here. I don't know how I got in there. How I got up to that hall--that's how I knew. But--the ICI told me it was a threat--_he_ was a threat. It would have had me kill everyone. The guards--the _President_--" Taiga ran his tongue over his lips, looking off into space. "I--I _told_ it to disregard. And you know what it told me back? It told me... it said, 'Directive denied.'"  
  
Lu took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Why...?"  
  
"Why? _Why_?" Taiga laughed--a sharp sound, short and nervous. "Wh-who _knows_ why. It was... _it_ was insane, in the end. Directive _denied_. The ICI working against the will of the host body. I didn't know it could _do_ that--I didn't know--what kind of person would _let_ it do that? What kind of--of sick _contingency_ were they planning for?"  
  
Lu opened her mouth to say something--but Taiga interrupted her, voice infused with all measure of betrayal.  
  
"I _relied_ on it. I _counted_ on it for everything, and now I find out--it's like _it_ tried to kill me. Like I trusted it and it tried to stab me in the back. And I--I don't know what to _do_ now and the first thing I can think of is ask the ICI--like I've forgotten already what it _did_ to me, and I--I _haven't _forgotten. I just... it doesn't seem like it was the _same_ ICI. It couldn't have been the _same_ ICI. It--it _couldn't_."  
  
"It's gone now," Lu tried to reassure him. "Don't worry--"  
  
"I never--felt this bad, before. Never. Even when I thought I would go mad. Even when I was so _sure_ I would just fold and whimper and lie down and die, I never felt _this bad_." Taiga looked up at her, eyes desperately asking her to understand what he was saying. "It's--something is _missing_ now, and I don't know what it is. But I do. But it's--it not what I thought would go. It's not what I thought I'd--lose."  
  
"It's all right," Lu tried to reassure him--tried to reassure _herself_. "Taiga, you'll get used to it. You just have to learn what it's like not to have it. It's all right. It'll get better."  
  
"Do you know why I made it, Lu?" Taiga was staring up at her, eyes wide and impossibly earnest. At that moment, he didn't seem like a soldier--didn't seem like an adult. He looked like a child, waiting for her to make everything right with the world. "Do you know why I never made it that far on my own, but why I made it there no problem, with you? Why I made it so far away with Seiken, and with you?"  
  
"Why?' Lu asked.  
  
"It's because cyborgs are never left alone. Never. From implanting to dying day, there's always the unit. We never leave them. Never. And if you go for that long never being alone then when you _are_ alone it... it's terrifying, with only you and the ICI. You can't do it. You can pretend that the ICI is a person so much that you start thinking that it's true, but it isn't. And when I was out there--six days, was it, or seven? I can't--I can't _remember_--I thought I was going insane before I found you. And I kept wondering how long it would take." He started laughing. "Do you know how long it take? How long it takes to go insane?"  
  
"Taiga--" Lu would have given anything to end the conversation. Taiga didn't care.  
  
"It takes _six_ years, _thirty-some_ days, and--and I don't know the hours. ...what time is it?"  
  
Lu looked around. "Taiga, it's--"  
  
"It doesn't matter. It's no use keeping track of the time. The ICI will do that for you. The ICI can keep appointments, if you need it to--did you know that? A lot of people don't." He breathed. "The ICI isn't a person, because it's _you_. That's what it is, for a cyborg. It's you."  
  
"No--" Lu could hardly speak. Taiga's eyes were filling with tears--it was strange, she thought. She had never known cyborgs could cry. It had never occurred to her that there was no reason why they shouldn't be able to. "It's not you, Taiga--it's not--"  
  
"It's--_me_, and I never knew that...." Taiga shook his head. "What do you think will happen, now? Now it's--_gone_--"  
  
"It'll be all right," Lu said again, trying to make both of them believe if through sheer force of repetition. "Things will get better. You just have to rest now--and we'll be here. We'll all be here for you."  
  
"Hyne," Taiga whispered, one hand raising feebly as if to touch her face. "Hyne, _Hyne_, you look so much like Alda."  
  
Her own vision was flooding with tears that refused to fall. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "So, so sorry."  
  
Taiga made a supreme effort, and smiled at her. "It's all right," he said. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. It's all right." He put both of his palms down, pushing himself up as well as he could. "...I want to see my daughter," he said. "_Please_. I--I need to see her again. ...please."  
  
Lu stood, nodding. "I understand," she said, even if she didn't. "I'll get her."  
  
"Alda," Taiga whispered. "...you would have liked her. You would have liked her, Lu."  
  
Lu made her way out, fighting back tears she couldn't quite explain.

-

It wasn't too long before they were able to usher Fujin into the lab, all too eager to do whatever they could to help Taiga. Hit was sitting up now--uneasily, staring at his hands and flexing his fingers. He looked lost--as if he was about to drift off, and never find his way back.  
  
And, as if she understood exactly what was going on, Fujin ran to his side with more haste than she had ever run to anyone.  
  
He looked up, and there was a moment between then that said more than conversation ever could.  
  
"Anyev." Taiga's eyes were filled with tragedy. "We never got the chance to talk. I--you came all the way out and found me, and you came with me here, and we never _talked_. I can't--I can't believe it."  
  
Fujin shook her head weakly. "Don't need words."  
  
"Words--" Taiga took a deep breath, a ghostly smile playing across his lips. "Do you remember our house?"  
  
Fujin nodded.  
  
"And the days I would build a fire and tell you and your mother poems? The poems that Seiken wrote? ...do you remember those poems?"  
  
She nodded again. "...yes."  
  
"And I would--make _wooden soldiers_--" He was laughing now, eyes unfocused and fixed on nothing. "And--oh, _Hyne_, if they weren't the worst toy soldiers ever--"  
  
Fujin chuckled, too. "I bought you one," she said. "Tin. Forgot where I put it."  
  
"Maybe I should go out and look for it," Taiga jibed. "Walking all across the globe trying to find one tin soldier. What would you call that, Anyev?"  
  
"_Perfect_," Fujin answered, without thinking at all.  
  
"You know," Taiga said, "I thought for sure I wouldn't remember Seiken's poems a month after he told them to me, but I think I do. There was one you liked--or maybe I just liked it, and thought you did too--do you remember it?"  
  
"The King and Queen are on the green," Fujin quoted, "and mallards on the pond they row--"  
  
"And oh, the Queen is happy yet," Taiga added, "because...."  
  
"...because the _songbird_ tells her so!"  
  
Taiga laughed. "And daisies draw their open mouths across the petal-scented air--do petals even _have_ scents? I thought that was a _different_ part of the flower--"  
  
"And roses on the grass repose--because, the Queen, she left them there," Fujin supplied, finishing the stanza in a breath.  
  
"The King and Queen, the Queen and King, alone under the shining sun," Taiga said, squinting with the effort of remembering. "They laugh, and sing--"  
  
"--and hope, and dream--"  
  
"--and love the sunsets, every one." Something caught in Taiga's throat, and he trailed off.  
  
Fujin took a deep breath. "They sigh, the wind is not alive," she whispered solemnly. "But wind sings in the summer skies."  
  
"They sigh, the wind is not alive... but wind sings, in the summer skies." Taiga's eyes clouded over, and he swallowed hard. "Anyev..." he said, with a sincerity that ached to the soul. "...you make me _sane_ again."  
  
Fujin closed her eyes. "_Father--_"  
  
"And... even if I hadn't seen you, if I didn't know that you would come all the way to Centra for me and that you could fight and that you have the respect of such... such _odd_ people, I--_Anyev!_ Alda and I... we were stupid, lost kids and we didn't know what we were doing or why... but I don't regret you. You--you're more precious than either of us. You aren't proof that I'm human. _You're_ my humanity."  
  
Fujin shook her head. "Father, I--"  
  
Taiga waved it off, weakly. "It's all right," he said.  
  
"I--alive--" Fujin looked at him, scrutinizing his face. "You're my _father_," she said, and it had more power than any expression of affection or love could ever muster. "If I--your humanity--" She choked. "...you are my _life_."  
  
Taiga settled back--smiling. Fujin reached out and took his hand in both of hers, holding on as well as she could.  
  
"Fujin," Taiga breathed. "...god of winds. ...do you know why they call the cyborg's strongest attack 'Soul Crush?'"  
  
Fujin shook her head. "No," she answered.  
  
Taiga exhaled slowly, a noise so like a sigh of relief as to be heartbreaking. "...neither do I," he admitted, and died. 


	43. Ragnarok

If it was hours or days or months later that Fujin silently retreated from the lab, she had no way of knowing. By that time everyone had been assembled, waiting for good news and expecting her to bring it. It was too much--too much to ask, to mush to stand.  
  
She stepped through the threshold and froze in place, horrified at the aspect of facing them, to unsteady on her feet to really evade. On her face, plain and open, was an expression none of them had ever seen her wear.  
  
It was so strange, so _foreign_ to her mien that for a long moment, no one could tell that it was grief.  
  
Lu was the first to speak, biting her lip and fighting back emotion. "Anyev, I'm--"  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
The room jumped, ponderous night stillness smashed to pieces. Fujin stood hunched, fists clenched, eye _redder_ than normal--she was shaking, every muscle tense, teeth bared. She looked terrible.  
  
"SILENCE!" she screamed again, hoarse with the volume, voice strained almost to breaking. "SILENCE! _SILENCE! SILENCE_!"  
  
She didn't give anyone a chance to think before she fled the room.  
  
Her shuriken was still sitting on the table by the door--she snatched it up as she went. She had disappeared before anyone knew what had happened.  
  
She ran through the halls of the Institute--empty, so _empty _at this time of night--taking turns by instinct, losing herself as best she could. Getting _away_--away from that accursed lab, from the people she had never wanted to be here with, from everything and nothing, really, at all.  
  
She collapsed against a wall when it seemed her legs wouldn't carry her any further, and for the first time heard noises of pursuit. Seifer was running after her--so _predictable_, just like every other step on this mess of accident and tragedy. he turned and sent the shuriken hissing at him, but her had was shaking--it dropped, skittering against the floor, and she dropped too. It was far, far too much.  
  
"Fujin?"  
  
He was standing over her as she cowered there, and under any other circumstance she would have been ashamed, But she couldn't think, now, couldn't--  
  
"Nnnnot," she stammered, voice quaking. "Nnnnnnot Ffffujin. _Aaanyev._ Nnnnnot--"  
  
Seifer made an open gesture. "...Anyev," he said, the word unfamiliar.  
  
"Nnno," Fujin shook her head. "Nnnot...."  
  
"Fujin, then." Seifer took another step closer.  
  
"...who am I? _What_ am I...?" Fujin huddled against the wall, staring at her hands as if sure they would disappear. "...wasn't supposed to be born, you know. _Impossible_."  
  
"...looks like you're here, though," Seifer said. "You seem real enough to me."  
  
"_Who?"_ Gathering herself as best she could, she forced her feet under her and stood, leaning heavily on the wall. "Father," she pronounced, "was stronger than anyone. Than _anyone_. ...except himself." She shook her head. "...father was _never_ strong enough for... for himself. Am--am I?"  
  
"You think I'm going to let anything happen to you?" Seifer shook his head. "Not gonna happen."  
  
Fujin shook. "I'm not going back to Garden!" she forced. "Not! Not! I'm--_not_ going back there!"  
  
"Then neither am I," Seifer said, folding his arms.  
  
"Yes," Fujin insisted. "_You_ are."  
  
"Then you're coming with me."  
  
Fujin stood there, and shook--and closed her eyes. "..._yes_," she whispered. "...I am."  
  
"Because we're a _posse_," Seifer continued, "and no matter what happened before we all met up--and no matter what's happening _now_--we can _still_ rely on each other."  
  
Fujin bowed her head, choking painfully on her own emotion.  
  
Not knowing what to do, but somehow feeling all too certain, Seifer took her by the shoulders and pulled her in. She didn't resist, her forehead against his collarbone, tears falling hard onto the blue fabric of his vest.  
  
"You should have trusted me in the beginning," he whispered. "You think I wouldn't understand?"  
  
She didn't answer. He didn't expect her to. They stood there in silence until the first fingers of dawn began to lighten the foreign sky.

-

The new day, when it broke, was bright and warm.  
  
They were allowed to see the President for five minutes or so between terribly important meetings of one sort or another. He apologized profusely, extended his sympathies, and told them that he regretted that there was nothing more he could have done. There were too many things he wanted to say, and before he could say all of them he was ushered away by his aides.  
  
The Palace and the Institute buzzed with their daily activities, going steadily along with no consideration for loss. Squall retreated into one of the offices, and contacted Balamb--who promised to have a transport there as soon as possible.  
  
The Palace staff tended to them automatically during the day, attending to their duties and moving on.  
  
Sometime in the evening, the massive form of the Ragnarok set down at the Esthar Airstation. Lu walked with them to see them off, although she didn't know how she could possibly give her farewells. It wasn't until they stood in the main Airstation hall that Fujin realized that there had never really been any question of her staying for a funeral--if there was going to _be_ a funeral.  
  
Her father was dead. What could a funeral say beyond _that_?  
  
Lu forced herself to say something. It came out common and hardly noteworthy--and she didn't really hear what she was saying, anyway. Fujin forced herself to mumble something in reply, something not heartfelt and easily missed. Staring up at the grimacing face of the dragonship, she reflected that _Ragnarok_ meant the end of the world.  
  
Against all self-control, Fujin turned back to look over the Esthar skyline. From the Aristation it looked to be nothing more than a confused jumble of buildings--strewn haphazardly across the surface, congregating here by accident rather than design. If there was a sense behind it all, _she_ couldn't divine it. It was an alien landscape, cool and distant, neither promising nor demanding anything.  
  
From such a place had come the technology to rob countless soldiers of their humanity--and the technology to bring her to life. It had driven itself to miracles and tragedies, all up and down the spectrum of luck and emotion. And it was still going, millions upon millions of lives constantly changing the face of the nation, careening blindly forward without care for those they might trample or those drawn onward with them.  
  
She didn't have anything to say to such a place--hardly had anything to think. Resolutely, she turned her back on it and started up the stairs into the Ragnarok's great, empty hangar.  
  
The ramp retracted behind her as she stepped on board, and the engines powered up. The dragonship lifted smoothly off the ground, scorching the air behind it as the engines pushed them forward.  
  
Out of Esthar.  
  
...home._  
_

**--- - - - ---  
_E N D_  
--- - - - ---**


End file.
